


Errare Lupinum Est - To Err Is Wolfish

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deputy Derek Hale, Derek Can't Speak Latin, Derek Hale/Jordan Parrish-Bromance, Derek is a False Conclusion Wolf, Derek loves his pillow, M/M, Miscommunication, Mpreg, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pregnant Derek Hale, Trigger Warning: Fat-Shaming on the Force, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stiles - she was late!"<br/>“Yes buddy, late, a synonym for ‘not on time’, I got it, I have mastered the English language you know. I just don’t know for what?”</p><p>In the aftermath of Scott and Kira's pregnancy scare Stiles can't help but feel very relieved that he and Derek won't ever have to deal with something like that.</p><p>Derek, who kind of wanted to clue Stiles in on the fact that given their mate-compatibility they actually could that very same day, is heartbroken and makes stupid decisions about it (i.e, testing Stiles for mate-compatibility without his knowledge, running the Latin instructions for said testing-potion through Google Translate, and then completely throwing caution and safe-sex to the wind because the test said he can't get pregnant by Stiles after all, right? Wrong.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where Derek Can't Speak Latin

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not put my stuff on Goodreads. I was not aware that part of my stories were on there and I am not comfortable with having my fan fics circulated out of my control. 
> 
>  
> 
> A word of WARNING: I will have to update the tags as it becomes relevant because this work will include some fat-shaming. 
> 
> Derek is a deputy and his colleagues have griped about him being all around fitter, faster, and stronger than they are for years, therefore, their reactions when his belly starts growing are not necessarily kind. I have never been part of a police force but I have friends who are and who inform me that physical fitness is a pretty important aspect of their daily routine, so I would have considered it unrealistic not to include it. 
> 
> I don't believe in fat-shaming myself and I know this can rub people the wrong way, so if you don't like that sort of thing, please don't read this.

“Holy crap, _dude_ , I had the _worst_ week ever!”

Stiles knew he was probably going to that very special circle in hell reserved for best friends who didn’t take their best buddy’s theatrics seriously anymore, but to be fair, Scott had the worst week of his life on a bi-monthly basis.

Therefore, his only reaction was a friendly pat on Scott’s shoulder as he plopped down onto the couch cushion in Derek’s loft and tried to give him his most compassionate smile.

Yes, Derek totally owned an actually comfortable couch now and all it had taken was Stiles casually wondering about how awesome couch sex would be.

“Tell me _everything_ ,” he said, fighting the urge to grin when he could see Derek, who was curled up on the armchair (armchair sex was also totally awesome) and reading a book, rolling his eyes.

Scott heaved a deep sigh, looking at Stiles with a long-suffering expression.

“Kira was late.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows.

“Late? For what? A date? Class? Don’t tell me she ended up failing that English Lit class after all because her professor is a douche bag and marks students as absent if they are late by one minute!”

Scott shook his head, an air of incredulousness surrounding him as he sighed even deeper.

“No Stiles, she was _late_.”

“Yes buddy, late, a synonym for ‘not on time’, I got it, I have mastered the English language you know. I just don’t know for what?”

He could see Derek rolling his eyes out of the corner of his eyes again but ignored it, having decided that it was probably directed at Scott.

“Dude! Her period!”

Stiles winced.

“Scotty my man, I love you, but there must be an article in the bro-code that forbids speaking about the girlfriend’s periods under any given circumstances. I’m not talking to you about Derek’s monthly urges, so you shouldn’t talk to me about Kira’s monthly … things.”

Scott huffed dramatically while Derek’s un-amused growl seemed to indicate that Stiles was not going to benefit from any urges tonight and possibly for the foreseeable future.

“Dating another guy must be so wonderfully carefree,” Scott mused, before he reached over and snatched the half-full glass of pistachio milkshake out of Stiles’ hands.

“Hey! I was drinking that!” Stiles protested and Scott shrugged.

“I was traumatized this week, I earned it.”

Stiles opened his mouth as if to say something else, then closed it with a snap, his eyes widening as he finally caught on to what Scott had been trying to tell him.

“ _Late_? As in, Scotty is going to be a daddy and everyone and their mother - or in this case Melissa – are going to freak out?”

Scott shuddered.

“My mom would have killed me. Slowly. With tools that I don’t even want to know the name of.”

He finished the milkshake in one go before he let his face drop onto Stiles’ shoulder, his entire body folding in on itself as he seemed to be reliving the horror.

“Most horrible week of my life, I swear! First she was late and wouldn’t tell me why she was freaking out, then she told me and _I_ freaked out, then she was too scared to buy a test and I tried to sniff for the baby, only I had no clue what I was sniffing for because how the heck should I know and by the time I finally manned up and bought the stupid test I was already composing the epitaph to be read after my mom had killed me.”

He shook his head, shuddering once more as he made a grab for the chocolate chip cookie in Stiles’ hand.

“Longest three minutes of my life!”

Stiles surrendered the cookie willingly, looking at his best friend with a sympathetic expression.

“No baby though, right?”

“No baby, thank god!” Scott exclaimed, looking like a chipmunk with his cheeks stuffed full of cookie.

It was very endearing and did not at all inspire Stiles’ confidence in his best friend to be ready to tackle fatherhood.

“Phew! That’s a relief! Can you imagine you guys with a kid right now? We just turned old enough to drink, we cannot take responsibility for something that tiny!”

Derek sat his book down with a snap, looking at his boyfriend of three years with a peculiar expression on his face.

“You don’t want children?” he asked, tone guarded, and Stiles, who was currently experiencing a belated shock-reaction to Scott’s news, shook his head vigorously.

“Goodness, no! That would be the worst ever! I would probably leave the poor kid in a store somewhere and then my dad would kill me. No wait, he’d kill me before that, so I would be dead already. At least that way I couldn’t mess up the kid!”

Derek shook his head, his expression turning somber.

“You are 21 years old, I highly doubt your dad would kill you for becoming a dad,” he said quietly and Stiles laughed.

“If I cheated on you and knocked up some random girl he would! Which, in case it has escaped your notice, is not something that is going to happen anytime soon – or _ever_ – so why would I want kids?”

He gave Derek his dopiest smile, sighing slightly when Scott wrestled another cookie from him.

“You and me are good like this Derek! No sleepless nights, no responsibility, just you and me, bumbling along and occasionally sucking at communication and then having awesome make-up sex after!”

“Didn’t need to know that,” Scott mumbled and Stiles shrugged.

“Tough Scotty, I didn’t need to know about Kira’s female stuff!”

Scott’s reply was lost in another chunk of cookie and Stiles got up from the sofa, walking over to Derek and making himself comfortable on his boyfriend’s lap, his hand teasingly rubbing his midsection.

“We’re good, right? No freaky werewolf business I should know about? Because I gotta tell ya, the mere thought of having a kid scares the _crap_ out of me!”

Derek batted his hand away with an annoyed huff, sighing deeply when Stiles winked at him in the most adorable way he knew.

“Don’t worry Stiles – we’re good.”

 

==================

 

Nothing was good. Well, Stiles was probably great, but Derek wasn’t doing well at all that night, his mind whirling as he unsuccessfully tried to tell himself that it would be fine.

In a way, having Scott show up with the news of his almost-fatherhood today of all days had been a good thing – it had saved Derek the humiliation and soul-crushing desperation of being rejected by Stiles to his face.

He had been debating over whether or not to tell Stiles for months and finally decided that morning that it would be irresponsible to keep him in the dark any longer.

Stiles and Scott were home from college for a long weekend and it was as good an opportunity as any.

In some born-werewolf families the males had the ability to conceive and carry children to term, granted, it occurred rarely and required a whole list of conditions, but it _was_ possible, and Derek had known that he could potentially become pregnant if he were to chose the right male mate from early childhood on.

Derek had been the first boy born to the family in generations who possessed the ability – and had been mercilessly taunted about it by some of his cousins _and_ his uncle before Talia Hale had found out about it and put a stop to it – and even though it had never happened in their lifetime his parents had been very thorough in explaining the process to him.

In essence, it was almost impossible.

Conception had to take place under a full moon of a certain star constellation that only came about once or twice a year, he had to essentially be longing for a kid with every fiber of his being, and the other father of the child had to be mate-compatible with him.

The last was really the biggest issue that usually prevented male werewolves from becoming pregnant, since suitable mates didn’t just wander past one’s doorstep by the handful and as far as his parents had known even suitable mates occasionally had to try for many years until they conceived a baby.

Aware of the possibility, Derek had always denied Stiles sex on the full moon, arguing that he would not be able to control himself if he let his animal urges take over and although Stiles had frequently complained about the lack of rough passion in his life on three days of the month he was mostly understanding of Derek’s fears, even though he never failed to remind Derek that he trusted him.

Lately, however, Derek had found himself longing for a family, children that would be the perfect combination of Stiles and himself, and that morning he had decided to find out if they were actually mate-compatible and then, given a positive result – and he had become reasonably certain that it would be positive, Stiles smelled like his and he had never experienced that with another partner – he had wanted to gently steer Stiles towards the idea.

He had planned to do the test beforehand, not wanting to get his boyfriend’s hopes up because he had been sure that Stiles would be excited about the possibility, but reality was quickly proving him wrong and the thought pierced through Derek like a knife.

It had taken him the entire day to put the test together, a potion – or rather, chemical essence, since potion sounded much too wizardly for his tastes – that would be able to tell him if he and Stiles would be successful if they were to try for a child.

The instructions had been in an old book that had miraculously survived the fire and he had collected it from the ashes afterwards, aware even in his grief-stricken mind that he would probably need it later in life, and some of the words were so blackened by ash that he had had a hard time deciphering it.

He had even had to use Google-Translate for two ingredients, since Lydia had not been in town that day to translate Latin for him and while Scott had shared his woes with his best friend, the potion had been quietly simmering in the kitchen.

He had told Stiles it was lentil-soup, knowing full well that Stiles hated lentil-soup with a passion.

Amongst a bunch of herbs the potion required samples of both his and Stiles’ semen and he had sent a quiet apology to the heavens to his mother and Laura when he had assisted Stiles in cleaning his come off of his belly after a rather satisfactory goodnight-hand job, aware that they would have scolded him for the secrecy.

The potion had been waiting in the bathroom and he had added Stiles’ semen when he had brought the towel back, setting his timer for an hour, which was suggested for the potion to actually work.

If the yellow mixture turned red he could become pregnant – if it turned black, they were not compatible.

Derek played Candy Crush on his phone until he ran out of free lives, then he played Angry Birds, and he was just about to go for a new badge on Sporcle, when his phone finally beeped.

Stiles had been asleep for almost half an hour and so Derek quickly turned off the phone, not wanting to wake him as he tiptoed towards the bathroom, preparing himself for the inevitable red and the heartbreak it would cause him to know that his perfect, compatible mate did not want children.

It was black.

Pitch-black.

Well, not black-black, really, more of a really dark blue navy, but it was definitely not red.

Somehow, that made it even worse.

He had been so sure that Stiles was _it_ for him, but seeing that they were actually incompatible made him want to cry.

His mother would have scolded him once more, gently reminding him that just because two people weren’t a hundred percent compatible that didn’t mean they had to go their separate ways if they really loved each other, but Derek wanted children.

He wanted a family, period, and though he loved Stiles deeply he wasn’t sure if he was willing to give up his dream for him.

His mother would have frowned upon the notion, arguing that one did not have to have children to lead a fulfilled life, but his mother had never known what it was like _not_ to have a family, having first been surrounded by a strong pack of parents and siblings and then by her husband, nephews, nieces, and own children.

His heart was heavy when he dumped the potion down the toilet and washed his hands, and he lay awake next to Stiles for a long time.

Maybe it was actually for the best – Stiles did not want children anyways and knowing that they were unable to have them would at least spare them a very bitter discussion and possible break-up.

When the next full moon came two days later, the night before Stiles had to go back to college, Derek was near insatiable, first pounding Stiles into the mattress and then riding him so hard he had probably left bruises, finally allowing himself to let go of his control a little and not even bothering to check if it would have been the required star constellation.

After all, caution was no longer necessary and Derek had denied himself for too long – if this was truly the beginning of the end for him and Stiles he wanted to savor everything.


	2. The One With the Morning Sickness and the Uniform-Fail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! Hope you enjoy what's to come!

_7 Weeks_

Thanksgiving food poisoning was evil – purely and utterly evil. Thanksgiving food poisoning from a bad lox-bagel was even worse than utterly evil and Stiles had never felt so miserable in his life.

He was curled up on the couch, trying to watch TV while his stomach continued to gurgle at him like it wanted to register a formal complaint, his insides twisting uncontrollably and a trashcan resting on his lap.

He had named the trashcan Hilda, as they had become very well acquainted with each other over the past 24 hours.

Derek had been kind of weird and distant with him for a couple of weeks, first over the phone while he was at college and then when he had gotten home for the break, going so far as to actually claiming that he had a _headache_ whenever Stiles wanted to cuddle lately – and really, that had hurt his feelings a little, after all, Derek was a werewolf and Stiles wasn’t stupid, thank you – but now that Stiles was suffering he had apparently shaken off whatever weird phase he had been in, taking care of him with his usual tough-loving bedside manner and unable to hide his discomfort at seeing Stiles so ill.

“Deeeeerek! I’m dying!” Stiles whined when his Sour Wolf hadn’t shown his face in the living room for almost half an hour and he groaned when his stomach once again lurched unpleasantly just as Derek stuck his head around the corner, looking quite pale himself as he slowly made his way over to the couch.

“You’re not dying Stiles, I would have smelled that,” he said soothingly and Stiles whined, then grimaced, when he could feel more bile building up in his throat.

“Easy for you to say, you are immune to food poisoning,” he muttered, his eyes widening in misery before he hunched over Hilda again and began to gag.

He was barely aware of the rushing sound of footsteps when Derek vacated the premises – not that he could blame him, after all, the smell probably wasn’t too great for a werewolf – and he lifted his head out of the trashcan in confusion when he could hear the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom.

“Deeeeerek? Are _you_ dying?” he called out when the spell was over and by the time Derek returned from the bathroom, even paler than before and with one hand rubbing his abdomen, Stiles was sprawled out on the couch with both hands digging into his lower belly.

“Did I just make you hurl?” he asked, opening one red-rimmed eye and blinking sheepishly and Derek studiously avoided looking at Hilda when he lowered himself on the couch next to Stiles and closed his eyes.

“It’s just … it was a bit much, you know?” he offered weakly and Stiles tried to smile at his boyfriend, aware that it probably looked more like a grimace.

“When did you get such a weak stomach?” he murmured, scooting closer to Derek and rubbing the werewolf’s belly in soothing motions.

“Don’t have a weak stomach,” Derek mumbled, sighing softly when Stiles snuggled against him.

“I love you very much for commiserating with me, even though I assure you it’s not necessary,” Stiles muttered and Derek allowed himself to relax under Stiles’ gentle ministrations, marveling at the fact that even in his weakened state his boyfriend still thought about his well-being and once again feeling deep sorrow about the fact that they were not even compatible.

He had tried not to think about it in the past couple of weeks but his efforts had been futile – it was all he could think about currently and he wasn’t surprised about the alarming frequency of his headaches lately, certain that dark thoughts could only lead to agony, even for a werewolf.

He had almost fallen asleep when his stomach rolled once more and Derek barely managed to grab Hilda from the floor before he became ill again.

“Are you cheating on me Hilda?” Stiles muttered weakly, his eyes squeezed shut as he rubbed Derek’s back comfortingly and when it was over Derek got up and emptied the trashcan, not wanting Stiles to become ill again as well.

“Should I be worried Sickly Wolf?” Stiles asked when Derek curled up against him on the couch again and Derek shook his head, taking deep, even breaths as he closed his eyes.

“Nah – I just never could stand seeing other people vomit. You should have seen me when my mom was pregnant with Cora – Laura made fun of me for weeks afterwards saying that _I_ was the pregnant one,” he said quietly, omitting the fact that it could have well been true if he had been a bit older, and Stiles laughed softly.

“Sure glad we’ll never have to worry about _that_ , right?” he asked absentmindedly, one hand still gently rubbing Derek’s belly and Derek sighed, squeezing his eyes shut when he realized that he was starting to tear up.

“Yes Stiles, I’m _sure_ glad about that.”

 

=================

 

_16 Weeks_

Derek did in fact hate vomiting with a passion – he hated it so much that the mere memory of Stiles hurling his insides into the trashcan now and forever known as Hilda made him nauseous for almost ten days after the food-poisoning disaster.

Stiles had had to go back to college after the Thanksgiving break and so he had been able to hide it from his boyfriend, not wanting him to make fun of him for his ‘weak stomach’ again and after having to throw up two to three times between the morning and late afternoon for nine days his body had finally decided to let go of his ridiculous sensibility, the constant nausea replaced with bone-deep fatigue.

Derek had never slept so much in his entire life, not even after the fire, when sleeping had been a way to escape from the horror his life had become, and during Christmas break he had awoken with Stiles curled against his back on many occasions, his boyfriend’s gentle breathing a soothing sound in his ears.

In the middle of January, just as Derek had finally begun to feel more energetic again, Stiles had to go back to college for his last semester as an undergrad and on the day he left Derek barricaded himself in his loft and cried, missing him painfully and also a little freaked out about his loss of control.

He had decided to give them another chance, mate-compatibility be damned. He loved Stiles, he wanted Stiles to be _it_ for him, even if his body didn’t seem to agree, and he had decided to come terms with the fact that there would not be any children for them.

It would have been a long shot anyways, since compatibility did not guarantee conception at all and maybe it was all for the best – having a family only led to heartache and they were probably better off with just each other and Stiles’ dad.

Speaking of Stiles’ dad … Derek cursed loudly when he realized that it was almost 1 AM and he was expected to be at the station early in the morning.

Sheriff Stilinski had offered him the position as a deputy back when Stiles had first gone away to college, the sympathy in his eyes suggesting that he knew exactly what it felt like to try and fill a Stiles-sized void in his life and Derek had accepted gladly.

His werewolf senses often came in handy when it came to crime solving and having a routine again actually soothed him.

He was no longer an Alpha and with his normal Alpha – Scott – away at college as well he had sort of adopted the Sheriff as a surrogate-Alpha, feeling mortified whenever he had to stifle the urge to preen when John praised his good work.

He was Stiles’ father after all and Derek did not want to disappoint him under any circumstances.

His alarm went off at 6 AM the next morning and he sat up gingerly before he slowly shuffled out of bed.

He had lately gotten dizzy on a couple of occasions after jumping out of bed quickly and had gotten into the habit of taking his time in the morning, since the dizzy spells usually led to nausea and he wasn’t eager to repeat the ten days of vomiting after Thanksgiving.

It had worried him at first and he had almost gone to talk to Deaton about it, but the nausea had always cleared up quickly and Derek really wanted to avoid spending any more time with the enigmatic former Emissary than he had to.

There was, after all, only so much mysticism he could take on a regular basis.

Derek hadn’t gone to work in four days, taking a long weekend to enjoy the last days with Stiles – a luxury the Sheriff’s son’s boyfriend could actually afford on occasion – and he was ready to get dressed for work, having decided to run to take his mind off missing his boyfriend, when he encountered an unforeseen obstacle.

His uniform no longer fit.

Well, he could still wear it, technically, but he was certain that the shirt hadn’t strained over his stomach like that four days ago and he had definitely been able to button his pants without feeling like the waistband was trying to slice him in half during his last shift, even though sitting down after lunch had been quite a bit of a challenge now that he was thinking about it.

His eyebrows rose in confusion as he inspected his reflection in the mirror, hands trailing over his slightly protruding stomach.

He wondered what he could have possibly eaten to leave him looking so bloated, then decided to shrug it off, certain that running to work for a couple of days would efficiently take care of his wardrobe crisis.

With a sigh Derek grabbed his jacket, deciding to just wear it for the duration of his shift to conceal the ill fit of his uniform. It would be uncomfortably hot but at least he wouldn’t have to listen to donut-jokes all day.

Derek usually drove the Camaro to work, perhaps taking a bit more pleasure in the other deputies’ envy over his car than he should, but as he ran through the crisp January air he wondered if he should maybe do this more often, enjoying the quiet and the clean, fresh air flowing through his lungs.

When he got to the station he was more exhausted than he normally was after a long run but he attributed that to the little sleep he had gotten the night before, taking a deep breath to compose himself before he entered his workplace.

The station was mostly empty, as the day shift had just started replacing the night shift and Derek had actually gotten some long-overdue paperwork done by the time the rest of his colleagues trickled into the station.

He had had a piece of toast at home for breakfast but around 8:30 AM his stomach began to growl, reprimanding him for thinking that a small piece of toast was actually enough.

Mindful of his ill-fitting shirt he placed a hand on his upper belly, his gaze flitting around his desk to see if he had any snack food left, when he was suddenly hit by the scent of peony and a slim arm reached over his shoulder to deposit a plate with a huge slice of cake on his desk.

His eyebrows were raised but Derek was nevertheless smiling as he turned around and looked at Wendy Allen, one of the oldest dispatchers on the team.

Wendy had been on duty the night they had taken him and Laura to the station, the two of them still shell-shocked by the loss of their entire family, and although Wendy had never said anything to him about it, Derek knew that she remembered that night as well as he did.

As a result, she had taken to him immediately when he had joined the force and usually treated him as if he was her grandson.

She was in her mid-sixties and Derek sometimes found himself wishing she actually _was_ his grandmother.

“Good morning dear! I wanted to give this to you during lunch, but you look a little hungry right now. My grandson’s birthday was this weekend and we had so much cake left over that I thought I should bring you some!” she beamed at him and Derek flashed her a genuine smile, touched by the gesture, even though he doubted he could eat something this sweet so early in the morning.

“If you like this one, I’ve got a couple more slices in the fridge with your name on it!” Wendy added and Derek chuckled as he looked at her fondly.

Wendy seemed to be under the impression that every man, no matter his age, was a growing boy and needed to eat as much as humanly possible, and he had seen her sneak pastries into the Sheriff’s office on more than one occasion.

Stiles would probably have a fit if he ever found out about it, but in this case Derek’s loyalties clearly lay with Wendy and his quasi-father-in-law.

He inspected the cake after Wendy had left, wondering if he could wait a while longer to eat it at a more reasonable time for sweets, but his stomach grumbled again, loud enough to attract the attention of Jordan Parrish, his partner on the force for almost two years now.

“Dude, just eat the cake already, I won’t be able to concentrate otherwise,” he grinned, moving forward as if he wanted to grab the cake from Derek and Derek shrugged, lifting a forkful to his mouth and tasting it hesitantly.

He did _not_ moan at the tantalizing flavors in his mouth but it was a near thing and Jordan looked on enviously as Derek almost devoured the rest of the cake.

“So … good cake?” he asked when Derek was done and Derek grinned, hand once again resting on his belly.

“The best,” he confirmed, smirking when Jordan sighed dramatically.

“Just be glad you’re Wendy’s favorite!” he grumbled, before he turned towards his paperwork again.

Derek and Jordan had bonded easily and Derek was aware that Stiles was sometimes a little jealous of the slightly older deputy, not only because Derek had become friends with the man so quickly but also because of all the time they spent together, both at work and outside of work when Stiles was away at college.

He had overheard a discussion between his boyfriend and Scott once, where the latter had tried to explain to Stiles that it was great that Derek had other friends now and that him actually enjoying himself for once was preferable to him brooding in lonely misery for weeks at a time. Although Stiles had agreed readily he still smelled jealous every now and then.

It annoyed Derek on occasion, but he was also weirdly touched by it.

The thing was, Jordan, who was straighter than straight and thus very much not a danger to Stiles at all, would have been the kind of person Derek would have been friends with in school and though he loved Stiles deeply and was more than willing to consider him his best friend, he also enjoyed having someone outside of a romantic context that he could talk to.

Stiles had always had Scott and Derek was well aware that Scott knew much more about their relationship than he let on, so he felt that it was just fair that he had Jordan now if he ever felt like venting.

Jordan was reliable, had a sense of humor that Derek truly appreciated … and was also tactful enough not to comment when Derek first loosened his belt and then pushed the waistband of his pants under his stomach completely, feeling too restricted by the too tight uniform pants.

The uniform jacket was doing a well-enough job of hiding it, however, and by the time his shift ended Derek was actually hungry again, despite the additional large slice of cake he had had for lunch.

Since he had run to work he decided to take a walk downtown to pick up some Chinese take-out and by the time he got back to the loft it was almost 6 PM, making it just the right time to call Stiles.

“I miss you!” Stiles’ voice rang out of the tiny speaker as he picked up and Derek smiled, swallowing a mouthful of orange chicken.

“It’s too quiet here without you,” he said and Stiles laughed, his tone playful as he spoke again.

“Derek my love – what are you eating?”

Derek chuckled.

“I think the question is ‘what are you wearing?’,” he corrected his boyfriend with a grin and Stiles laughed again, the sound exactly what Derek had needed after a long and tiring day filled with paperwork.

“I forgot to stock up on some non-perishables before I left and when I got back to my apartment I had no food at all, except some moldy pop tarts. Not that I wouldn’t be all up for phone sex tonight, but I’m actually more interested in food right now. I can tell you are eating _something_ so let me live vicariously through you!”

Derek sighed.

“Stiles … you’ve been back at Berkeley for over 24 hours … please tell me that you had the time to pick up at least a salad or something since then.”

“Well, since I waited until the last possible moment to go back to school so I could spend as much time as possible with _you_ , I kind of had to spend the entire day running around campus to get myself organized. No time for food yet!”

Derek clucked his tongue.

“Go buy some food, you know you can’t concentrate on an empty stomach,” he chastised his boyfriend gently and Stiles chuckled.

“Yes _Mom_!” he replied cheekily and Derek pretended not to feel the slight pang in his chest at the word.

“If anything, it would be yes Dad,” he corrected him, hoping that Stiles wouldn’t catch on to the heaviness in his tone.

“Nope! Sorry that I have to break it to you, but you’d totally be the mom, all nurturing and caring and overbearing, even though you’d try to overcompensate for it by being grumpy.”

Derek huffed.

“Dads can be all these things as well,” he protested and Stiles laughed again.

“Lydia would kill me for the gender-stereotyping right now. I should do penance later.”

“What you should do is go out and buy some food right now, so that you’ll at least have some breakfast for tomorrow. Moldy pop tarts do not belong in any of the food groups, as you very well know,” Derek said in response and Stiles chuckled once more.

“I’m quite sure even the not-moldy kind doesn’t belong in any of the food groups,” he said, his tone becoming gentle when he whispered, “I really miss you,” into the phone.

“I miss you, too,” Derek said somberly and after they had hung up he pushed his take-out box away, suddenly no longer hungry.

Stiles obviously didn’t know how much his words had hit Derek, since the werewolf still thought it was useless to talk to him about what could have been, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

His hands dropped to his stomach automatically, rubbing at the angry line on his lower belly where his pants had been pinching into him all day.

Sighing softly to himself he cupped his newly protruding belly in an imitation of a pregnancy gesture, allowing himself to fantasize what it would have been like for only the briefest of moments before he forced himself to snap out of it.

There would never be a baby, Stiles was not compatible with him, no matter how much he wished he was, and the sooner he would learn to accept that, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued tomorrow in the ominously-titled "The One With the Many Hormones"


	3. The One With the Many Hormones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty my lovelies, attention please: this chapter includes the first hints of what might be considered fat-shaming, as one character notices another character's weight gain and decides not to mention it for fear that the other will be upset about it.  
> There is also mention of some snarky remarks by fellow officers. 
> 
> The next chapter will go into that in a little more detail, but I just wanted to put the warning out there.

_20 Weeks_

Derek had planned driving up to see Stiles at Berkeley over the weekend for almost three weeks, wanting to surprise his boyfriend for Valentine’s Day because he knew Stiles was a secret sucker for the holiday – even if Derek could not understand the appeal at all – but when he woke up on the morning of the 14th and tried to put on his clothes, he grudgingly had to admit that his departure had to be delayed for a couple of hours.

He had been able to get by at work with pushing the waistband of his uniform pants below the steadily growing bulge of his abdomen, grabbing a couple of shirts one size up from the locker-room and simply wearing his jacket as often as possible as to not draw attention to the way his belly gently curved outwards above his belt nowadays, but his civilian clothes were simply no longer acceptable.

His Henleys were actually pinching his sides and he couldn’t button his jeans even with his werewolf strength.

As he stood in front of the mirror Derek silently berated himself for living in sweatpants for the past couple of weeks.

Granted, Stiles had always complained that it took forever to peel Derek out of his jeans to get to his butt but he was sure that him showing up at his apartment with his fly wide open and the jeans barely pulled up to his hipbones was not what the human had had in mind, even if it would have probably provided much easier access.

Derek sighed deeply as he dressed in his sweatpants, resigned to buy a new pair of jeans and some shirts before he headed out to Berkeley.

He briefly wondered where the weight could have possibly come from as he paid for his purchases, grateful that the store carried larger sizes in clothes that were actually his style, then shrugged it off.

He was in his late twenties after all – yet another reason why he was so grateful that the Sheriff had given him a job rather than arrest him when he had found out that Stiles and Derek had started dating weeks before his son’s 18th birthday, even though Derek had been very strict about not ‘consummating’ their relationship until Stiles’ actual birthday – and his metabolism was bound to slow down a little, even as a werewolf.

In addition, they hadn’t had to run for their lives in months and with the entire pack away at school Derek hadn’t had to attend pack trainings in quite a while, which probably explained the ill fit of his entire wardrobe.

Besides, it wasn’t like it was that big of a deal, probably not more than ten pounds, maybe fifteen at the most, and after all, Stiles owed him for studiously pretending that he hadn’t noticed his own Freshmen 15 situation that first semester at college, even though Stiles had whined about it for weeks and driven Derek, who hadn’t given a damn about imaginary love handles and had just wanted to have sex and lick all over Stiles’ body like always, completely insane.

Derek certainly hoped that Stiles would want to lick all over _his_ body like always.

He had thought he had left wet dreams behind with puberty, but his sex drive was definitely on overload these days, which was regrettable considering his boyfriend’s current absence.

He had bought Stiles flowers – he _could_ be romantic if he wanted to after all – but when Stiles opened the door to his tiny studio-apartment Derek had pretty much abandoned all thoughts of romance in favor of his baser urges, no longer able to control himself when the familiar, tantalizing smell of his boyfriend hit his nose.

Compatibility-issue or not, Stiles certainly smelled like _mate_ to him and Derek was aware that he was squashing the flowers he had thrust into Stiles’ hands before pushing him against the door and kissing him senseless.

They had been expensive and it was rather sad, but Derek couldn’t bring himself to care when Stiles let out a surprised, yet pleased moan and responded immediately, hands wandering over Derek’s waist and gripping as he pulled him closer against him.

For a brief second Derek froze against Stiles, suddenly uncertain what Stiles would make of the extra softness he was currently holding on to and the hard, yet smooth round curve pressing against his lean stomach, but then Stiles rolled his hips against Derek and he forgot all about it.

He needed to feel Stiles like yesterday and Derek felt no shame whatsoever when he pretty much herded Stiles towards the bed, not even caring whether he had shut the door or not when he pushed Stiles onto the mattress and then crawled on top of him, pushing down his wrist as he arched down to kiss Stiles again, nipping at his lips and pulling them between his teeth.

He could already feel the orgasm building up inside of him and while a part of him wanted to bemoan the fact that he was going to win an award for fasted reunion sex ever he groaned into Stiles’ mouth when Stiles opened the button of his new jeans with swift, practiced movements and thrust his hand inside them, rubbing against his erection through his underwear before he pushed the waistband down to get a good grip and Derek was actually a little embarrassed when he came after three strokes, crying out harshly before he crashed into Stiles’ chest.

Derek was still panting softly when Stiles began to stroke his hair, his chest vibrating under Derek’s cheek when he began to chuckle.

“So … I take it you missed me?” he said and Derek didn’t have to look at him to imagine the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Guess I did,” he offered before he pushed himself up with his forearms and rolled off of Stiles, snuggling into his side and resting his head on Stiles’ chest.

Even though he normally enjoyed being plastered all over his human like a werewolf blanket, the position had actually been a little uncomfortable with the hard curve of belly in the way.

He allowed his hand to trail a bit lower, past Stiles’ abs and he frowned when he found Stiles barely half-hard.

“Don’t take it personally Sexy Wolf, I was writing a term paper on male circumcision when you showed up and dragged me to the bed and I’m afraid I need a while to get in the mood after all that blood and gore,” he explained, craning his neck to kiss the top of Derek’s head and Derek grinned against his chest.

“Not for your econ class I hope?” he teased him lightly and Stiles laughed.

“Nope, that one’s actually for medieval history. I plan to send a copy to Finstock, but only if I get an A on it. Although I should, after all, I have been preparing for this paper for years!”

Derek chuckled, yawning as the aftereffects of his orgasm caught up with him and his eyes fell shut almost against his will.

“Are you _still_ being a Sleepy Wolf?” Stiles said softly and Derek grunted apologetically.

“Want to take you out to dinner tonight. Made some reservations,” he yawned and Stiles rolled on his side so he had full access to Derek’s face, kissing him softly and stroking his thumb along his cheekbones.

“I would love that! I do have to finish that paper first, but maybe you can take a little nap while I do that? Unless, of course, you’re still bothered by my loud typing.”

Derek smiled lazily and stretched, curling up against Stiles’ large body pillow as he closed his eyes.

“Hack away on your keyboard to your heart’s content, I’m not buying you a new one when you wear it out,” he mumbled and Stiles laughed softly, kissing his forehead before he stood up.

It was an old argument and neither had any intention of giving in any time soon.

The drive and the sex had indeed tired Derek out enough to sleep through almost two hours of Stiles’ rapid typing and when he woke up a shirtless Stiles was spooned against him, his hand leisurely resting on Derek’s belly.

Derek turned his head sideways and grinned up at Stiles sleepily, smile widening when Stiles nuzzled his cheek in return.

“What time is it?” he asked and Stiles checked his watch.

“It’s just after 5 PM. When did you make the reservation?”

Derek closed his eyes again and stretched his legs, not able to resist tangling his feet with Stiles’ when the human pressed his toes against his calf.

“6:30. It’s a 20 minute walk from your place so we should be fine,” he answered, his ears glowing red in embarrassment when his stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he had skipped lunch in anticipation of seeing Stiles again.

“Sounds to me like someone can’t wait until 6:30,” Stiles muttered softly, his hand gently patting Derek’s belly and the werewolf’s blush spread to his cheeks, his shoulders tensing as Stiles began to rub the protrusion in soothing motions.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the blushing? I’m hungry, too! I haven’t eaten since breakfast!” Stiles said quickly and Derek relaxed, grateful that his boyfriend wasn’t going to make a big deal out of the fact that he looked a little different than the last time they had seen each other naked.

He was about to respond when his belly grumbled again, louder this time and Stiles kissed his neck with a soft laugh.

“Want me to raid my fridge for a pre-dinner snack?” he offered and Derek nodded immediately, though his hopes for Stiles having anything that was actually edible were not all that high.

He chastised himself a little when he caught himself undressing Stiles with his eyes as the younger man hopped over the fridge, wondering how he could possible be in the mood for sex again when Stiles’ head disappeared into the fridge, the bent position emphasizing the curve of his butt in a much too tantalizing way for Derek to resist.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind at all when Derek snuck up on him and wrapped his arms around his midsection, lightly kissing his neck and shoulders.

“I missed you, too,” the human said fondly, turning his head for a quick kiss before he looked into the fridge again.

“Well … I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer you other than a half-empty glass of pickles, one banana, peanut-butter, and one half of a parmesan-oregano bagel, neither of which goes really well together,” he said apologetically.

Derek shrugged, his desire for Stiles temporarily forgotten as his stomach rumbled again and Stiles raised his eyebrows when he slathered the parmesan bagel with peanut-butter and mashed up the banana and then topped it off with two pickle slices for good measure.

“That … looks absolutely disgusting,” Stiles snorted when Derek moaned around the first bite and Derek shrugged, ignoring Stiles in favor of the surprisingly delicious sandwich.

“You’re not going to kiss me before you brush your teeth, right? I’m getting nauseous even looking at it,” Stiles said when Derek licked the rest of the peanut-butter off his fingers and the werewolf smiled good-naturedly before he playfully nipped at Stiles’ nose.

“Gross!” Stiles complained, but he was laughing and Derek shrugged, even though he decided to humor his boyfriend.

When he came out of the bathroom Stiles had changed into appropriate dinner attire and he whistled when Derek put on his leather jacket.

It went well with the dark teal of the new shirt he had bought today and Stiles smiled appreciatively.

“Are you going to be hungry in time for dinner?” he asked and Derek rested his hand on his belly for a brief moment before he nodded, a soft smile on his face.

“I’m always hungry these days,” he muttered, sounding almost surprised as he realized that it was in fact true and Stiles wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in for another kiss.

“That’s your body compensating because you’re hungry for _me_!” he grinned and Derek laughed, patting his boyfriend’s ass teasingly as he walked towards the door.

“I’m sure that’s the reason!” he said, raising his eyebrows when Stiles lingered behind him, a soft expression on his face.

“I really do miss you, all the time, you know that, right?” he asked quietly and Derek closed his eyes briefly, again overcome by his wish that he and Stiles were actually compatible to have a family one day, before he shook his head.

It was no use to dwell on this any longer and he would be stupid if he let Stiles go just because he didn’t want children yet.

After all, Stiles was 21 and it was reasonable for him to not think about having a family yet and maybe, just maybe, he would be open to adoption in a couple of years.

“I miss you, too. Always,” Derek responded, his eyes shimmering as he suddenly found himself biting back tears and wondering when he had gotten so emotional.

Thankfully, Stiles was currently busy with looking for his keys and he hadn’t noticed it yet.

Derek was determined to keep the true extent of his sappiness from his boyfriend – the nicknames would probably be atrocious – and as they walked to the restaurant he listened to Stiles’ exasperated tales of his econ professor, a guy who apparently made Finstock look like the model of an exemplary teacher of the year.

Derek had chosen an Italian restaurant for the evening and even though he refused to share Stiles’ spaghetti with meatballs with him like Lady and the Tramp in public, their evening was nice and relaxed and Stiles’ eyes widened when Derek not only finished his lemon-caper pasta with chicken but also ordered them dessert, something that he usually avoided like the plague.

“I’m completely and utterly stuffed – please roll me home!” Stiles declared dramatically after they had paid and Derek shook his head at his boyfriend’s antics, pulling him out into the cool air and once again interlacing their fingers as they slowly walked home.

It might have been just Derek’s imagination, but his belly looked different than it had this morning, even though that was probably from all the food, the curve even rounder and more pronounced, and he took his time taking off his shirt when they got to Stiles’ place.

Stiles lost his patience halfway between the first button and the button just above Derek’s navel and he gently steered the older man towards the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress and taking care of the rest of the shirt himself.

Derek breathed a small sigh of relief when he was lying in front of Stiles in only his boxer shorts, still not used to the way his clothes felt restrictive on him these days, and his hands wandered to his belly automatically, fingers splayed over his midsection, but Stiles wasn’t having any of it as he bent down and gently nosed at Derek’s fingers, interlacing them with his own and pulling them aside as he began to kiss and lick all over Derek’s chest and stomach.

It was what he had hoped for and Derek moaned softly when his sensitive skin flared up, all of his nerves seemingly suddenly wired to the quickly growing erection tenting his underwear.

“You _really_ missed me!” Stiles breathed when he mouthed at the bulge and Derek could only nod in agreement when a soft cry left his lips as Stiles swiftly pulled down his boxers and swallowed, his hands lightly stroking Derek’s sides.

It felt amazing but it wasn’t what he wanted and he grasped Stiles’ ears to get his attention.

“I want to come with you inside me,” he panted and Stiles grinned, his eyes hooded with desire as he leaned over Derek’s belly and kissed him.

“I can do that,” he mumbled and when he gently maneuvered Derek to get on his hands and knees Derek went willingly, taking even breathes as Stiles began to prep him.

His belly was much more prominent hanging down like that and for a brief moment he felt unsure again, despite Stiles’ earlier gentle ministrations, but he needn’t have worried – when Stiles finally entered him and began to thrust against him, his hands were almost cradling his stomach, giving him extra support against the not unsubstantial weight on his midsection and once again setting his nerve endings aflame.

His belly had never been much of an erogenous zone for him, but that was apparently a thing now.

Much like in the afternoon, his orgasm took him by surprise and by the time Stiles came inside of him he was almost ready to go again surprised at his unusual stamina even for his werewolf nature.

Almost ready to go turned into a definitely ready to go blowjob and by the time Stiles had cleaned them both up Derek was fast asleep, lying on his side with one elbow tucked under his chin and his other arm resting on his midsection in an almost protective manner.

Had he been awake, he would have probably wondered about the look of brief confusion in Stiles’ eyes when the human pressed a gentle goodnight kiss against his lips and then, almost as an afterthought, joined Derek’s hand on his belly with his, softly stroking the bulge before he retracted his hand.

He had noticed the new shape of his body almost immediately, he _always_ noticed everything about Derek, but his boyfriend was clearly not a hundred percent comfortable with it yet and Stiles, who considered himself a good boyfriend if not the best ever, was determined not to say anything about it, even if he did find it rather beautiful, yet a bit foreign on Derek’s otherwise muscular frame.

It also made him feel strangely proud, but Stiles had long ago stopped trying to figure out all of the complicated and often overwhelming emotions he felt towards Derek.

He fell asleep with a contented smile on his face and woke up eight hours later to a clearly horny werewolf nuzzling his neck and – for a lack of a better term – humping his leg.

“Again?” he yawned sleepily, not annoyed, but definitely surprised, and Derek stopped briefly, looking up at Stiles with an almost sheepish expression.

“No?” he asked and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yes … _duh_!” he grinned, swiftly rolling Derek on his back and straddling him, grin widening when Derek bucked his hips against him with a low moan.

“Can I ride you?” Stiles asked, instantly wide-awake and Derek nodded, biting his lips when Stiles reached for the lube, watching the proceedings with a hungry expression on his face.

When he sank down onto Derek’s erection Stiles leaned back, supporting his weight on Derek’s muscular thighs as he began to roll his hips against the older man’s groin, suddenly – and inexplicably – hesitant about using too much pressure on Derek’s stomach like he normally would have.

It was slow and deliberate and this time Stiles actually came before Derek, with the werewolf’s hand wrapped around him and stroking him languidly.

He fell forward with a soft groan, planting his hands on the mattress and catching himself at the last second before his stomach collided with Derek’s and he was surprised at how hard it was, now that he was feeling it with his entire torso.

Derek came soon after and when he was done Stiles climbed off of him, grabbing for his tissue box on the nightstand before offering it to Derek.

“Definitely not what I normally wake up to. You should come here more often,” Stiles muttered and Derek laughed, sounding happy and content when he kissed Stiles’ shoulder and reminded him that he was actually going to stay until tomorrow evening.

They stayed in bed for another half hour, fingers idly tracing over skin and occasionally exchanging kisses but after a while Derek’s stomach loudly protested against the lack of food again and Stiles got up with a grin, once again rummaging through his fridge.

“Hmm … ok so it looks like I don’t have any bananas left. Or bread. Want me to run down to the store and get you some? Or we could just eat some pop-tarts, I think I saw some of those two weeks ago,” he said over his shoulder, turning around fully – and coming face to face with a highly irritated werewolf.

“Why did you not buy new groceries last night?”

Stiles blinked at the accusatory tone, looking at Derek with a frown.

“Huh, what? You were with me nonstop last night, when would I have had the time to sneak out and buy groceries?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest when Derek’s glare intensified.

“You could have done it while I was asleep, you knew you didn’t have anything left for breakfast!”

Stiles shrugged.

“Well … we can go to Ihop? There’s one three blocks over,” he suggested, frown deepening when Derek shrugged off his hand as he reached for his shoulder and stepped away from him.

“Derek? Are you … seriously angry with me right now for not having stuff for breakfast when I didn’t even know you were coming?” he asked, tone rising ever so slightly when Derek began putting on his clothes with jerky movements.

“You should have known I would be coming over. I _always_ come over for Valentine’s Day!” Derek snapped and Stiles stepped towards him, now glaring as well.

“You told me you couldn’t make it because you were swamped with work this year, how was I supposed to know that was a lie? I would have understood and besides, I know you think it’s a ridiculous construct anyways and … hold on, Derek, _what_ are you doing?”

The last was directed at Derek’s attempts to pack his duffel bag and Derek whirled around, stepping into his space and crossing his arms over his chest and … were those tears shimmering in his eyes?

Stiles decided he was imagining things and had gone mad.

Much like his boyfriend, apparently.

“You should have known I would be coming! I will always come when it’s about something that’s important to you! And you should have been prepared so you could … _provide_ for me!” he barked, scowling furiously when Stiles snorted.

“ _Provide_ for you? Are we cavemen? This is ridiculous! I just _said_ we could go to Ihop and by all means, we can buy breakfast stuff and snack stuff and whatever you want afterwards and I’ll totally provide for you, I promise, I’ll provide your ass off if you want me to, the store is only two blocks away!”

“Two blocks that you couldn’t even bring yourself to walk last night while I was asleep! And don’t make _fun_ of me!” Derek hissed, his eyes still shimmering with tears as he grabbed his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket as well as he marched towards the door.

“Derek? Hey! Derek!” Stiles yelled, wincing when there was a knock against the wall from someone who obviously didn’t appreciate being barked awake by an insane werewolf and his long-suffering human partner.

“No! You couldn’t even buy me new bananas so I’m obviously not as important to you as you are to me so I’ll just … I’ll just go!” Derek yelled back, his voice sounding a bit muffled as if he was actually crying now and Stiles was only barely aware of his near-nudity when he stumbled into the hallway, leaning out as far as he could without having the door slam shut on him and locking himself out.

“Derek! Just because I don’t have freaking _bananas_ doesn’t mean you are not important to me! Hey, Derek! Derek! For heaven’s sake, come back!”

Derek didn’t even stop, his shoulders drawn up defensively as rounded the corner and Stiles was debating whether he should run after him or wait until he cooled down and realized how ridiculous he was behaving when his next-door neighbor, an 80-years old woman poked her head outside her door with her prissy cat in tow, looking just as prim and proper as ever as she regarded Stiles coolly.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have left if you’d been better about using your banana to your advantage young man,” she informed him, shaking her soft, white curls at him with a disapproving cluck of her tongue.

The cat was laughing at him.

Stiles had never seen a cat laugh at someone until today, but this was definitely it.

He turned bright red and slammed the door shut and it was probably just his imagination but he was certain that the cat-lady had joined her cat in laughing at him.

The fridge door was still open and Stiles stared at it uncomprehendingly for a minute before he slowly shut the door.

He had no idea what had just happened, but he was pretty certain that it had _not_ been his fault and when he collapsed back on his back with a groan he was determined notto text or call Derek to get him to apologize, or, heaven forbid, apologize himself.

This was not how he had expected the weekend to go, but if Derek wanted to play overgrown baby with a tantrum then well – Stiles was not going to enable that kind of behavior.

He ended up going out and restocking his fridge anyways, a part of him expecting Derek to call him halfway back to Beacon Hills and apologize, but the call never came.

 

================

 

_22 Weeks_

Two weeks. Two weeks and two days to be exact since he had last spoken to Stiles and Derek was utterly miserable.

He missed Stiles, he felt horrible for the way he had stormed out of his apartment, and he was too much of a coward – and ashamed – to be the one to call him.

There had been one or two occasions where they hadn’t spoken to each other for two or three days over some stupid fight, but two weeks was unheard of and Derek was once again afraid for the future of their entire relationship.

He had been able to convince himself that he had overreacted, that it was normal for Stiles to not want children when faced with his best friend’s girlfriend’s almost accidental pregnancy and that his emphatic assurances that they would never have kids would be reevaluated as he got older, but Derek was also getting older and he was once again no longer certain how long he could afford to wait.

Sure, he could always end up fathering a child the traditional way, but his werewolf reproduction system was a gift and Derek had always been certain that he wanted to experience it himself at least once and if he and Stiles already fought about something as stupid and trivial as a lack of bananas, how were they expected to sort out the important question of whether or not to ever have children?

Two weeks, two days, and seven hours.

No banana was worth fighting over that long.

He reached for his personal phone again, sighed, and instead grabbed the donut box that Wendy – who was a firm believer in treating heartache with sugar – had deposited on his desk earlier.

The rest of his colleagues had started making fun of him last week, when not even the closed jacket had been able to hide his ever growing belly any longer and although Derek had tried to shake it off, the little jibes and comments had still hurt his feelings.

Not enough to not bite off a large chunk of the irresistibly smelling donut, but enough to squash his enthusiasm to attend anymore of the after-work deputy gatherings.

He could still run faster than all of them and he could still lift a car from a wreck-victim without even breaking a sweat, so they had no business to talk anyways.

“Donuts! Can I have one?”

Derek relaxed into his chair when Jordan came into view and he held out the donut box, noting with relief that Jordan didn’t seem to be interested in the ones that were filled with custard – Derek’s favorites – and went straight for the one with blue icing instead.

It was just one of many reasons he considered the man his best friend besides Stiles.

“It is official, Wendy loves you more than all of us! We never get her extra donuts!” Jordan grinned, smiling around a mouthful of donut and Derek patted his round stomach with an embarrassed smile.

“She knows they won’t go to waste,” he said sheepishly and Jordan rolled his eyes, before fixing him with a stern expression.

“Dude! Your body, your choice, man. Stop listening to those idiots over there, not one of them can outrun you and I’m pretty sure you still have more muscle mass in one biceps than they have combined, so you’re good!”

Derek smiled back, no longer feeling self-conscious about grabbing another donut and squeezing Jordan’s shoulder in thanks at the same time and it was just at that moment that Stiles waltzed into the station, his wary expression as he approached Derek’s desk turning into suspicion and anxiety when he realized how close they were standing next to each other.

Derek’s hand dropped from Jordan’s shoulder and he also dropped the donut as he gaped at Stiles.

Jordan raised his eyebrows as he stepped around Stiles quickly, throwing a “Later Derek!” over his shoulder as he all but fled the room.

Derek had maybe mentioned an argument to Jordan on one of their patrols, without going into specifics, and he was partly grateful that Jordan was giving them space and partly terrified that Stiles had come to break up with him because of his banana-insanity.

Speaking of bananas – Stiles smelled like he had bathed in them, and Derek’s eyes widened when the human blushed and held a banana-bread loaf towards him.

“Uhm … I come in peace? And I no longer want to fight?” Stiles said hesitantly and Derek let out a small whine in the back of his throat when he stepped around his desk and crushed Stiles in an embrace.

He had missed Stiles and he had been terrified that the long silence meant the human wanted to leave him, but having Stiles looking at him like he was currently doing was all the reassurance he needed.

There were catcalls from the other deputies and a stern cough that came from the Sheriff’s office, so Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand, announced that he was on his break, and dragged the human out the backdoor.

As soon as they were standing outside he grabbed Stiles to kiss him again and Stiles pushed his hands against his chest softly, shaking his head with a smile as he regarded Derek.

“You’re giving me emotional whiplash here Derek – can we talk first before we make out?”

Derek sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I acted. I don’t know what happened,” he rushed out, relief flooding him when Stiles relaxed against him.

“ _Good!_ I had halfway convinced myself that _I_ had done something horrible to you after all,” he muttered and Derek shook his head, nuzzling Stiles’ neck in apology.

“You did nothing wrong … I just … I overreacted. It won’t happen again, I promise,” he sniffled against his boyfriend’s neck and Stiles pulled his head back so they could look at each other, alarm spreading over his face at the tears pooling in Derek’s eyes.

“Hey, no Sniffy Wolf, ok? We’re good. Whatever that was, we’re good now. I would have called earlier but I thought you were still angry with me, but then a bird that might or might not have been my dad told me that you’ve been moping around the station for weeks and I thought maybe I should come down for a visit,” he said, lightly stroking Derek’s face and Derek sighed, his head dropping onto Stiles’ shoulder as he inhaled his scent.

“Just … don’t do that to me again, you scared me a little,” Stiles said, almost like an afterthought, and Derek nodded, too busy squeezing his eyes shut against the stupid relief-tears to speak properly.

When his eyes were no longer in danger of leaking all over the place he captured Stiles’ mouth in another kiss, moaning softly, and Stiles raised his eyebrows when he pushed his leg in between Derek’s and could feel the tell-tale signs of a bulge in his uniform pants.

“Officer Hale, are you about to arrest us for public indecency?” he asked playfully and Derek groaned, as if he had just remembered they were outside.

“Bathroom?” he breathed, knowingly playing into one of Stiles’ oldest fantasies and the human gasped softly before he grasped Derek’s hand and dragged him into the station again.

They made it to the men’s room without running into anybody and he had barely managed to close the stall’s door behind them before Derek was on him again, hungrily licking into his mouth as his fingers began to fumble at his belt.

“Let me!” Stiles moaned, stilling his fingers and switching their positions so he could sink to his knees in front of Derek, fingers already moving to unbutton his pants and pushing Derek’s shirt up so it was resting on top of the crest of his belly.

He wasted no time in getting his lips around Derek, one hand grabbing his thigh as he began to move his head, the other digging into the supple flesh of his boyfriend’s stomach.

Derek’s skin felt taut and seemed to be radiating heat under his touch and his second hand crept up to Derek’s waist as he began to suck him harder, fingers running over the new flesh that felt so different than what he was used to.

Derek’s belly really had turned into his most erogenous zone; Derek barely had time to realize that before he came, groaning loudly as Stiles swallowed around him, his knees buckling under him.

Stiles was on his feet immediately, his arms wrapped around Derek’s back to secure him and Derek once again rested his head on his shoulder, while Stiles stroked his heaving abdomen.

For a moment Stiles thought he could feel the werewolf’s belly twitch under his hands but he dismissed the thought, aware that his muscles were probably still on overload.

“So … that was awesome!” Stiles grinned when Derek lifted his head with a dazed expression and Derek nodded, kissing him again for good measure.

“Want me to return the favor?” he asked breathily and Stiles was about to nod enthusiastically when someone who sounded suspiciously like Jordan Parrish cleared his throat.

“I might or might not have told our rat-hating Sheriff that I saw rats in the men’s bathroom just now so he wouldn’t come in and investigate the strange noises, so maybe instead of returning favors you two should be thinking about thanking me, for example with, I don’t know, Derek taking over my extra night shift for the next week?”

Stiles and Derek blushed beet-red and Stiles could barely hold in his laughter when Derek muttered “Done!”, sounding utterly mortified.

He could hear Parrish whistling as he exited the bathroom and because Derek was still moving rather sluggishly Stiles bent down to help him pull up his pants, fastening the button with just a little bit of difficulty.

He had been surprised to note that Derek’s stomach seemed and felt a little bigger than the last time he had seen him, but he was still determined to ignore it until Derek brought it up himself, at which point he planned to assure him that he didn’t care in the slightest.

Well, he maybe missed the abs a tiny little bit, but this was nice too, if only a bit different than what he was used to.

However, Jordan’s declaration had successfully squashed his arousal and as he stopped by his father’s office for a quick chat he noticed with relief that Derek seemed much more relaxed and happier than he had when Stiles had shown up.

Whatever had caused Derek to go bat-shit crazy, the crisis had obviously been averted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in "The One With the Braxton Hicks and Scott's Advice"


	4. The One With Braxton Hicks, Some Almost-Realizations and Derek's New Pillow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cough - Remember how I said I would update tomorrow, this chapter would be called "The One With the Braxton Hicks and Scott's Advice" and this work would have five chapters total?
> 
> Yeah ... turns out I lied about all of that. Moving and some new ideas kind of changed that game-plan but now we are hopefully back on track (and I really wanted to write about Derek and his pillow). 
> 
> Warning: This chapter includes some more obvious fat-shaming, as Derek is forced to attend a boot-camp and some more indirect shaming, as one character continues to feel uneasy about the other's weight gain but is too scared to bring it up.

_28 Weeks_

Towards the end of April both Stiles and Derek were completely stressed out, but for very different reasons.

Stiles was preparing for the last finals of his undergrad and finishing an honors thesis at the same time, freaking out about deadlines, citations, study guides, and where he wanted to go to grad school.

Derek was attending a police academy boot camp and hating every minute of it.

An official from the health department had toured Sheriff stations in nearby counties the previous week, hosting information sessions for fitness on the force and he had almost gleefully singled Derek out in front of all of his colleagues and the Sheriff and mandatorily signed him up for the boot camp hosted this week.

Jordan had shot out of his seat with righteous anger, arguing that Derek could lift much heavier things than him and that this was inappropriate and had found himself signed up for the boot camp as well, to improve his upper body strength.

The Sheriff had been sympathetic and embarrassed when he had apologized to Derek afterwards and told him that he couldn’t allow him to not participate in the boot camp and Derek had been bothered to note that Stiles’ father hadn’t even been able to look at his abdomen.

He felt good, he felt healthy, and it was really none of their business, but he didn’t want to lose his job either and so he went to the boot camp, trying not to gloat too openly when he was able to lift more than double of what even the buffest guys at the camp could pull off during the first day of weight training.

Unfortunately, the cardio-training the next day didn’t go so well.

He could still outrun almost everyone on the field, but he actually hadn’t run in almost three weeks now and he was alarmed to discover that he felt completely uncoordinated, stumbling along the track like a baby-giraffe just learning to walk on more than one occasion.

He was sweating by the time they had finished their ten-mile run and Jordan dropped into the grass next to him with a water bottle, a look of concern on his face as he took in the sweat running down Derek’s forehead and his harsh panting.

“You feeling ok Derek?” he asked and Derek nodded.

His back hurt a little after the run but he felt fine otherwise, only strangely exhausted.

“Just give me a minute,” he said, knowing that his healing would kick in eventually and soothe his strained muscles.

“Better make it a quick minute, I think Satan is headed your way,” Jordan muttered, and Derek groaned when he saw the camp instructor for the men walking closer.

“Hale! I don’t know how you managed to run so fast, but your technique leaves much to be desired, you were stumbling along like a baby hippo on that track! Come on, back on the track, 50 sit-ups, now!” Sergeant Erickson barked and Derek clamped his lips shut to keep himself from growling, aware that that would only result in a disciplinary hearing.

Ignoring Jordan’s concerned looks he propped up his knees and laid flat on his back, folding his hands under his head before he tried the first set of sit-ups – trying being the operative word, since his midsection simply refused to yield.

“I have never seen a sorrier sight in my life!” the Sergeant barked before he pushed Derek’s knees down so his legs were flat on the ground and knelt on top of them, staring at him with a frown.

“Do it again, and put some effort into it. I want your face to reach my hand right here!” he said, holding out his hand right over Derek’s navel.

There was no way he could reach that far – although he was ready to throw the instructor off of him if he so much as tried to hurt him – and after three attempts he gave up, panting as he felt his abdominals throb at him angrily.

“Geez, don’t overexert yourself! Alright, push-ups then, this just makes me sad!” Erickson barked and Derek glared at him as he rolled over and pushed himself up, shooting what he hoped was a reassuring glance at Jordan, who still looked like he wanted to say something.

“Are you on vacation Parrish? You, too, I want to see who can manage the most!” Erickson barked and Jordan bristled as he began his first set.

Derek appreciated his friend’s support and although his back and abdomen were still throbbing angrily he threw himself into the familiar workout routine, noting with relief that his upper body strength had not failed him.

It was, however, more uncomfortable than he was used to and he was almost painfully aware of the way his stomach ground into the gravel on the track.

He could still hear Jordan mutter angrily and because he was using too much air the deputy gave up almost 10 push-ups before Derek, rolling on his back and rubbing at his eyes angrily while Derek finished his last set before he rolled on his side himself, curling around his aching stomach and running his hand over it in soothing motions.

He wasn’t listening to the Sergeant as he waltzed off, focused on his healing, and therefore he flinched when Jordan touched his shoulder, looking more concerned than ever.

“You ok there, Derek? That was near harassment!”

Derek shrugged, pushing himself up with some difficulty.

“I think that’s normal for a boot-camp, I’ll be fine. It’s only one more day anyways,” he said, smiling at Jordan in what he hoped was a convincing way.

It had been a very long time since he had actually felt his muscles after over-exerting himself and he was barely able to hold in the pained whimpers as he lay in the camp dorm that night, his hands trying to massage his hurting abdominal muscles, which kept contracting under his hands.

He almost gave in and called Stiles, knowing that his boyfriend’s voice would make him feel better, but from one minute to the other the pain was gone and he could finally relax, relief flooding him as he stroked his skin.

No matter what happened the next day, he was determined to start jogging to work again; it simply went against his werewolf-honor to have sore muscles.

 

===============

_30 Weeks_

At the beginning of May, with two weeks left before Stiles was due to move back home for good – or at least until he decided where to go for grad school – Derek was ready to admit that something was … wrong.

He had thought that the pain he had experienced at the boot camp had been caused by exertion, but in the past two weeks the strange feeling had returned twice.

The first time had not been too terrible, it had been uncomfortable, but he had still been able to mostly hide the occasional winces, glad that it was a paperwork day at the station and he didn’t have to sit in a patrol car all day.

Jordan had asked him twice if he wanted him to cover his shift for him but Derek had declined both times, and he had also not voiced any objections when Wendy had wordlessly placed her heating-pad on his lower back to relax his tense muscles.

One of these days Derek was afraid he would actually affectionately call her grandma by accident.

The second time had been worse, jerking him awake in the middle of the night and leaving him writhing and gasping on his bed on and off for almost an hour. It had been a Sunday night and he hadn’t done anything that day other than nap in front of the television, finish a novel, and cook, and he seriously doubted that any of these activities had been a strain for his abdominal and lower back muscles.

It was the second time that had him a little worried at this point, not worried enough to go see Deaton yet, but still worried enough to make him wonder if he was actually getting ill.

That, as well as some other odd symptoms he had noticed over the past couple of weeks, including frequent spells of exhaustion, incredibly sore spots on his belly that seemed to wander all over his skin, and a rather burning sensation in his upper stomach that he continued to experience after eating.

The first time he had felt it he had initially thought of wolfsbane poison, since that was the only point of comparison he had.

Google had helpfully pointed out to him that the burning sensation was completely normal and called ‘heartburn’ and he had felt a little sheepish when, for the first time in his life, he had actually gone and purchased human medicine in a drugstore. Tums, in Derek’s esteemed opinion, was the stupidest name for a medicine he had ever heard, but he had quickly come to value them.

He had also googled for causes, adamant to stop this unpleasant sensation if he could, but so far, everything he had tried had been unhelpful.

One of these websites had gone into detail about pregnancy-heartburn and Derek had rubbed his stomach with a sad smile. He would have gladly taken the heartburn in stride if that was actually the reason, but having to suffer through it as a _werewolf_ without a baby in the end was just annoying.

Because he was still thinking about pregnancies and babies when he walked past the large mirror in his bedroom Derek stopped and looked at his reflection, running his hands above his naked skin.

He was not pregnant, but he certainly _looked_ pregnant these days, there really was no other way of putting it, especially since the only area of his body that had been affected by his slowing metabolism was his stomach.

Derek shook his head and continued walking towards the bathroom, his bladder in desperate need for relief for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

If he and Stiles had been compatible he would have gone and seen Deaton weeks ago, but he had followed the potion’s instructions to the t and it simply wasn’t possible, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

 

==================

_32 Weeks_

When Derek got up on the morning before Stiles’ big moving day he had enough. He had barely slept at all that night, unable to find a comfortable position, and he was so tired that not even the thought of seeing Stiles again that day could cheer him up.

Enough was enough.

When he shuffled into the large retail store an hour later he first made a trip to the clothing aisle, where he was disheartened to note that everything he would have actually liked to wear stopped at least one solid size below what he currently needed.

He was in desperate need of new pants though, so he limited himself to a deep sigh as he placed them into his shopping cart. He also grabbed a hoodie-jacket, but refused to buy any of the rather ugly shirts the store was currently offering. The pants had been his main concern anyways and with the jacket he could still wear his old shirts, despite the fact that most of them were really straining over his skin these days.

His next, and almost more important, stop was the section with the pillows and bedding and after five minutes of standing in front of the body pillows in mounting confusion a young sales associate cleared his throat next to him.

“Excuse me Sir, may I help you?”

The kid was new, Derek was sure, he smelled nervous and his tie had been fixed rather sloppily, and for a moment he debated scaring him a little before his exhaustion and genuine need for a new pillow won over.

“Actually yes. I want to buy a body-pillow and none of these look and feel like they will actually help me sleep,” he said, and the young guy grinned, some of the tension leaving his face.

“Dude, I feel ya! Those things are more for decorative purposes to be honest!” he said, blushing furiously when Derek raised his eyebrows at the effortless switch from ‘Sir’ to ‘Dude’.

“Dude, gosh, Sir, I’m sorry. No disrespect man. Awww, _crap_! Uhm …”

Derek held up his hand, humor twinkling in his eyes as he regarded the overgrown man-child that was currently sweating in front of him.

“If you help me pick out a pillow that will actually let me sleep you may call me Dude all you want,” he said with a grin and the guy blushed even deeper, before gesturing for Derek to follow him.

“So, I know this might seem a little weird, and these maternity pillows are a lot more expensive than the other ones, but they are _really_ good, like, amazingly good. My wife used one of those when she was pregnant with our twins and I swear, the moment they were born I snatched it up and I have refused to surrender it since. Best sleep of my life … well, when we actually get sleep that is,” he said and Derek looked at him incredulously.

He had clearly underestimated the man’s age – at least he hoped so.

“Amazingly good?” he asked and the sales associate nodded.

“Yeah, absolutely! My wife was super-large in the end … beautiful, mind you, but just, like, really large, and without this pillow she would have been miserable! These things are amazing if you need something to help take the weight off.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose again and the guy seemed to realize his blunder.

“Dude, not that you … man, I’m sorry I … oh my god, kill me now!”

Derek blushed when he realized that he had been rubbing his stomach once again, snatching his hand away and grabbing the maternity pillow instead.

“First day?” he asked and the guy looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

“I am _so_ sorry man! Please don’t report me, I can’t get fired on my first day. My kids are colicky and they cried all night and man, not even this awesome pillow can drown out _that_ noise. I love them, but they are _loud_!”

“How old are they?” Derek asked, having decided to just ignore the whole weight acknowledgement issue and the salesman visibly brightened.

“Three months old! A boy and a girl, but I swear, with their clothes on they look completely identical. Super different personalities though, my daughter is totally going to be the boss, I can already tell! Want to see a picture?”

Derek shrugged.

He was purchasing maternity pillows, had to shop for larger clothes to accommodate what increasingly looked like an at least seven months pregnant belly and he was looking at baby-pictures on some stranger’s phone.

The day could officially not get any weirder.

“They are cute,” he said politely and the guy beamed.

“They are, aren’t they? Do you have kids?”

Derek shook his head with a soft, albeit sad smile and the guy gave him a small grin, nodding towards the pillow.

“If your wife has been hesitant because she doesn’t want to be uncomfortable all the time, this pillow will change her mind. Trust me, it will change your life!”

He grinned, obviously pleased when Derek placed the pillow in his shopping cart, then stepped closer, his expression once again worried.

“Hey listen, sorry again for any disrespect. I didn’t mean it,” he whispered and Derek smiled back.

“If this pillow is as good as you say I’ll mail your manager and tell him to get you a raise,” he promised solemnly and he could still hear the young man whistling happily as he strode back towards the checkout.

As he walked past the maternity section he stopped, gaze flitting back between the pillow and the rack with the maternity jeans.

They looked a lot like his normal skinny jeans and they didn’t seem all too feminine either. They certainly looked a lot better than the grandfather pants he had picked up in the men’s section.

He quickly glanced in each direction to make sure nobody saw him before he pulled two pairs off the rack and went into the dressing room, feeling a little embarrassed up until the moment when he realized how comfortable they were.

They looked good on him as well and as he paid his purchases five minutes later he forbade himself to wonder if the grinning cashier thought he was suffering from some gender-confusion-crisis.

When he got home from his shopping trip he still had about four hours left before he had planned to drive up to Berkeley to spend the night with Stiles before they moved him back to Beacon Hills the next day, and he crashed out and took a three hour nap with his new pillow, feeling much more invigorated and relaxed when his alarm sounded.

It had definitely been a solid investment and he almost wanted to bring it to Berkeley with him, before deciding that it would just take up room that they needed for Stiles’ moving boxes.

When he showed up at Stiles’ place in the late afternoon, dressed in his new jeans, a slightly too tight t-shirt and the hoodie, he was not surprised to see Stiles take a double-take when he opened the door, but he _was_ surprised that his human boyfriend did not say anything about his new shape, even though it had clearly caught him off guard.

It was unlike him not to comment on something so obvious and for a moment Derek was unsure whether he wanted to be relieved at not having to justify himself to Stiles, or annoyed that Stiles obviously thought he had to stay silent to spare Derek’s feelings, making it officially a problem.

He eventually decided on the mostly neutral strategy of just shrugging it off, though he kept the hoodie on as he inspected Stiles’ moving boxes.

Between the two of them it would take less than half an hour to clean out the place and he was grateful that Stiles had already cleaned everything.

The human continued not to say anything about Derek’s new looks when they went out for dinner and it wasn’t until half an hour after they had gotten back home that he half-heartedly acknowledged it.  

“Are you … feeling ok?” Stiles asked timidly as he sat down on the bed, where Derek was currently massaging the top of his belly and cursing at his acute case of scatterbrain for forgetting the tums at home.

“Yeah … sorry, the food just didn’t really agree with me,” he answered with a soft groan and Stiles suddenly looked determined.

“I could … give you a massage maybe? I used to get heartburn a lot back when I had to take a bunch of different medication to help with the panic attacks and the hyperactivity and that always helped,” he said, gesturing for Derek to take his hoodie off and Derek contemplated the offer for a second before he shrugged out of his jacket.

Stiles could give amazing back massages and maybe it would actually help. Without the safety of the hoodie Derek was once again reminded that his maroon shirt was actually a little too tight – well, a lot, if he was completely honest – and Stiles’ wide eyes seemed to agree when he struggled to get the shirt off as well, even though he once again remained silent.

“So I already packed up everything we could have possibly used as massage-oil except …” Stiles began, blushing furiously when Derek snorted.

“You didn’t pack the lube yet?” he asked and Stiles shrugged.

“I have plans for us tonight Derek. Sexy plans. But to get to those plans we need to make you feel better first, so I’m going to get right on that … and then on you. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do,” he declared and Derek chuckled, then grimaced when the burning sensation flared up again.

“Ok so I only know how to do this from my perspective, so I’ll get behind you and just work my hands around you,” Stiles decided and Derek leaned back against his chest, closing his eyes when Stiles’ fingers began to gently rub against his chest and upper belly.

Stiles really had magic fingers, Derek decided after ten minutes, relieved to note that the pain had slowly dimmed until it was only an afterthought, and he was just about ready to fall asleep when Stiles gently rolled one of his for whichever reason extremely sensitive nipples between his thumbs and sleep was suddenly the last thing on Derek’s mind.

Stiles caught on quickly and he began to move his fingers across Derek’s chest in earnest, alternating between rolling and gentle pinching and Derek was almost a little ashamed when he came inside his boxers _again_ , like the last time he had been in Berkeley.

Stiles kissed his neck with a soft chuckle, both arms wrapped around Derek’s belly as he came down from his orgasm high and he laughed when Derek yawned as he cleaned himself up.

“What about me Sleepy Wolf?” he asked teasingly and Derek smiled sleepily.

“Give me five minutes, ok?” he asked as he snuggled back against Stiles’ chest.

He had only meant to rest his eyes for a minute, but sleep came quickly and he was out cold only two minutes later.

Stiles would have lied if he had said he wasn’t disappointed, but this was nice, too, having Derek sleep in his arms for a change, when normally it was usually the opposite.

He absentmindedly continued to stroke Derek’s belly, taking in the way Derek’s skin seemed taut under his touch and wondering briefly how this was even possible with Derek’s job and werewolf-metabolism, then decided to just not think about it. He didn’t want to be an asshole and as long as Derek was healthy and happy that was really all that mattered to him.

He had almost fallen asleep himself when he could feel Derek’s belly twitch under his hands again and he frowned sleepily, trying to find the spot again. He was about to gently push into Derek’s skin when he realized what this probably looked like from the outside and he removed his hands, snorting quietly.

If Derek had been a woman one could have thought that they were having a baby – his boyfriend definitely looked almost pregnant these days, although Stiles would have rather swallowed his tongue than tell him _that_.

Belly or not, Derek was still faster and stronger than Stiles by far and they did indeed finish moving him out in under an hour the next morning.

When they got to Beacon Hills Stiles parked his jeep in the garage and then went home with Derek, since his dad was at the station anyways.

He did not laugh at the adorable picture of Derek all wrapped up in his new body-pillow and clutching it lovingly like it was the One Ring and he was Gollum, but it was a near thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update will come either tomorrow or Tuesday and will be titled "The One Where First Jordan and Then Scott Have Some Good Advice That's Really Not All That Good"


	5. The One Where First Jordan and Then Scott Have Some Good Advice That's Really Not All That Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If you are sensitive about two people discussing a third person's weight gain you should tread with caution in this chapter

_33 Weeks_

_There was an old linen closet in the Hale house, a storage room where they still kept the fresh sheets and it was also Derek’s secret hiding place._

_Of course there was no such thing as a secret hiding place in a house full of werewolves, since everyone could sniff him out within minutes, but most of the time his family left him alone for a while when he shut the door behind him and curled up in the sheets, inhaling the fresh scent and taking comfort from the softness and darkness that surrounded him._

_Eventually, however, someone would come and check on him, since he usually disappeared inside whenever something was bothering him, and today was no exception._

_Derek knew it would be his mother before she even knocked on the door. His werewolf senses were not fully developed yet and he still had trouble tracking a scent in the outdoors, but he would have recognized the warm vanilla and cinnamon scent of his mom anywhere._

_“May I come in Derek?” Talia asked and Derek sniffled in response, unable to keep the tears in any longer now that his mom was standing outside._

_The door opened and then closed again and Derek noted with relief that instead of taking him outside and talking to him in his room his mother had actually joined him._

_It was a little crammed as Talia slowly lowered herself onto the soft linens and when she held out her arms Derek flew into them, big tears rolling down his cheeks._

_“What’s wrong Derek?” Talia asked him, her fingers tracing comforting circles on his back as she rocked him back and forth like a small child and Derek inhaled deeply._

_“I want to be normal!” he finally whispered and Talia looked at him in confusion, her eyes almost glowing in the darkness._

_“You are normal Derek, who told you otherwise?” she asked and Derek sniffled gain._

_“Maddie and Johnny did … and Uncle Peter,” he said softly and Talia hugged him closer._

_“Why did they tell you that you are not normal?” she asked and Derek made a pained little noise in the back of his throat._

_“Because I’m not a real boy … because real boys can’t have babies in their bellies. But I can … they said I’m a freak-boy!”_

_The tears were back full-force now and Talia stroked his head with a soft sigh._

_“You are not a freak-boy Derek. You were just born with something that is really, really special and that many boys would love to have when they get older,” she told him gently and Derek shook his head._

_“No boy wants to have babies in his belly, Uncle Peter said so!” he protested and Talia suppressed a frustrated sigh._

_“Uncle Peter always wants to be special and he’s jealous that you are more special than him. You can’t listen to Uncle Peter, ok?”_

_“But I don’t want to be special Mommy. I want to be normal!”_

_Talia hugged him closer, her eyes soft and kind as she looked at her only son._

_“You are normal Derek. You are exactly as you were meant to be. And maybe you will never have a baby. Maybe you will meet a nice girl and you will marry her and she will have babies in her belly some day. But maybe you will meet a nice boy, and if you do, then maybe, if you both want to, you can have little babies. That’s really special, because for two boys it’s not very easy to have babies,” she said gently and Derek shrugged, snuggling closer to his mom._

_“But having a baby is not fun, you are sick all the time and always tired. I don’t want to Mommy, I’m scared,” he whispered and Talia smiled softly._

_“Give me your hand Derek,” she told him and when Derek reached out his hand she placed it on her belly, allowing him to feel the movements inside._

_“Can you feel your sister? How she’s moving because she’s hearing your voice? That means she’s happy and healthy – is that scary?” she asked and Derek shook his head, looking at his mother for permission before he pressed his ear against her side._

_“I think I hear her heartbeat Mommy,” he whispered, and Talia laughed quietly._

_“She’s saying hello. She’s saying that you don’t ever have to be scared about having a baby, because it’s a precious gift and a little miracle,” she explained and Derek sniffled again._

_“I’m still scared Mommy,” he told her and Talia took his hand, squeezing it gently as she looked into his wide eyes._

_“When you are old enough to have a baby you won’t be scared anymore, I promise. And if you do have a baby, you won’t be alone,” she said and Derek looked at her hopefully._

_“Will you help me Mommy? If I have a baby?” he asked and Talia chuckled._

_“Well, I can’t really help you with having the baby Derek, but I promise that I will be there for you whenever you’re scared. And I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the time comes, so you do not have to be frightened. I promise,” she smiled at him and for the first time since she had sat down next to him Derek truly relaxed._

_“I love you Mommy,” he told her earnestly and Talia kissed his forehead, her eyes a little moist as she watched Derek press his ear to her belly again to say hi to his little sister._

_“I love you, too my precious little boy. To the moon and back.”_

Derek woke up with a start, feeling a little disoriented at first and also overwhelmed at the intensity of the dream.

He took a few calming breaths, face scrunching up in the familiar grief when he remembered that his mother was gone and he tried to focus on Stiles, taking solace in his familiar scent and the warmth that was radiating from him.

Stiles was sleeping next to him, snuggled against his side as he snored softly, one arm tucked under his pillow and one hand placed directly on Derek’s abdomen.

His boyfriend had developed a weird fascination with his stomach lately, sometimes it even seemed to Derek as if he was waiting for something when he rested his hand against it whenever they cuddled up on the couch, and in the past couple of days he had started to avoid Stiles, feeling a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

Derek had never felt this out of synch with his body before and having Stiles touch it was making him increasingly nervous.

He carefully placed Stiles’ hand back on the bed, replacing it on his stomach with his own as he trailed his hand over the protrusion, his mind going back to the dream, an almost forgotten memory.

His mother had put a stop to the teasing after the incident and the older Derek had gotten, the more aware he had become of the world and how it functioned, the more he had understood how fortunate he was to have the ability to bear children.

He hadn’t thought he would actually be able to use it for the longest time, but then Stiles had come along and within the first month of their relationship Derek had realized how deeply he wanted to have a family with the human.

He _still_ wanted to have a family with Stiles, despite knowing that it was impossible.

With a soft sigh he turned on his side, staring at the wall with moist eyes.

In a way it was good that they couldn’t have children – going through a pregnancy without his mother by his side to guide him, especially since he couldn’t go to a hospital, would have been terrifying.

 

_==================_

_34 Weeks_

“Alright, what’s wrong with you?”

Jordan’s voice startled Derek and he turned towards his partner, confusion filling him when he noticed that they were no longer driving but instead standing in a parking lot.

“What? What do you mean? What are we doing here?” he asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly and Jordan sighed, his expression concerned.

“Shift’s over, Jack and Rachel just headed out. Thought you and me could have a talk before we drop off the car to, you know, give you the opportunity to finally tell me what’s got you so preoccupied these days.”

He shrugged almost apologetically.

“I mean, it’s cool if you don’t want to talk, really, but it’s just … you’re kind of distracted all the time? Not to mention the constant sleepiness and not that I don’t trust your instincts or anything, but I’d feel better if you were a little more … alert when we go on patrol,” he said and Derek sighed guiltily.

His partner had a point and he did feel guilty about spacing out repeatedly when he was supposed to keep his eyes open, but Derek just couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that something was wrong with him.

The exhaustion, the weird stomach cramps, the heartburn, even the occasional back pain on their own would have been fine, but together they made for a very draining combination. In addition, the way his belly kept growing rounder and rounder, despite no changes in his normal diet, was beginning to unnerve him.

For a brief moment of what was clearly insanity he debated telling Jordan everything, that he was a werewolf, able to get pregnant, and starting to wonder why he was experiencing symptoms of pregnancy without actually being pregnant, but he caught himself in time, squeezing his eyes shut briefly and hands once again falling to his belly.

When he opened his eyes again Jordan’s gaze was centered on his stomach and he blushed when he realized Derek had caught him staring.

“Did I ever tell you about the weirdest situation I’ve ever been in at work?” he said and Derek blinked, surprised at the change of topic.

“No?” he asked and Jordan grinned.

“Don’t look so freaked out, I’m just trying to get you to relax here and it’s an awesome strategy so do cooperate please.”

He leaned back, scratching his forehead with an amused chuckle.

“So, me and my partner back where I used to work, we get this call one day, woman trying to rob the local supermarket and screaming bloody murder at everyone. When we got there she immediately started screaming at us, only instead of profanities she kept yelling that we couldn’t arrest her because of the baby she was about to give birth to. Of course we arrested her anyways, since we could tell she was not pregnant, but she kept doing that in stress-situations, going so far as to actually simulate labor pains during her initial hearing in front of the judge. It was the weirdest thing and of course we would treat her as if she wasn’t pregnant, yet she kept insisting she was – as if pregnancy allows you to rob a supermarket. I mean, I know all about cravings, my sister’s first baby is due in a couple of weeks, but still, there are limits, you know? To this day I don’t know if that would qualify as hysterical pregnancy or not.”

Jordan was giving him a rather strange look as he finished talking, almost as if he was waiting for something, and Derek raised his eyebrows.

“What’s a hysterical pregnancy?” he asked and whatever Jordan had been expecting to hear, it obviously hadn’t been that, since his own eyebrows rose even higher than Derek’s. He caught himself quickly, however, expression still wary as he regarded the werewolf.

“You’ve never heard of that? Some women apparently want to be pregnant so badly that they actually develop real pregnancy symptoms and prepare to give birth to a baby, only of course there is no baby. Not a hundred percent sure if there are other causes as well, but desperately wanting a baby seems like a good one to me. Which is why I don’t think the woman in the supermarket was hysterical-pregnant … I actually think she just had a flair for drama and … hey, you ok?”

Derek forced himself to relax his fists, breathing in and out as his claws retracted, and he hoped Jordan hadn’t seen it.

He hadn’t even considered a hysterical pregnancy, but it made sense.

He was definitely longing for a child and it seemed reasonable that his body, ability to become pregnant and all, could create symptoms of a pregnancy in reaction to his heartache over finding out it would never happen.

It was probably the most offensive and traitorous thing his body had ever done to him in his life.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry. I just … I’ve just been feeling weird lately. I’ll be fine.”

And he would be, Derek decided, his mouth set in a grim line as he stared at his swollen abdomen.

If hysterical pregnancies were a mind-thing, then he could definitely set his mind to just stop. He could tell he was starting to really worry Stiles and it wasn’t like he was actually enjoying the constant discomfort.

“You’ll tell me if you need something, right? If I can help? Whatever it is, no matter how weird, you know I’ve got your back, right?”

Jordan was looking at him with barely disguised concern now and Derek tried to smile, aware that it probably looked more like a grimace.

There was no way he was going to admit to being hysterical pregnant, especially not to someone who didn’t even know he could get pregnant at all.

“I know … I’ll be fine. Really.”

Jordan clearly wasn’t convinced, but when his back started to twinge at him angrily Derek found he just didn’t have enough energy to care.

 

_=================_

 

_36 Weeks_

Stiles had been home from college for four weeks before he finally gave up and called Scott for help.

Since he had not specified what he had called him about and Scott still vividly remembered the weeks of radio-silence between Stiles and Derek he showed up with a gallon of cherry ice cream and a sympathetic expression on his face.

“Did Derek break up with you?” he asked and Stiles groaned, tugging the ice cream out of his best friend’s hands and starting to spoon it directly out of the container.

“No! But he will, once I ask him if he’s ok or if he’s like, eating his feelings because he’s gained so much weight lately!”

Scott dropped his spoon with a clatter, a look of alarm on his face.

“Dude, no! Never talk to the spouse about weight gain ever! Don’t do it! It’s unhealthy!”

Stiles sighed, clearly frustrated.

“I wasn’t going to mention it at first, I swear! Yes sure, I noticed the little bulge, I’m not blind, but he seemed to be uncomfortable about it and so I figured I’d just not comment on it, besides, it was kinda cute and it’s not like I would mind, really, and then I came to see him at the station two weeks later and ok, it wasn’t really a bulge anymore but more like an actual belly and I thought well, we were fighting over some stupid bananas for half a month, I almost ate my weight in ice cream, too, so that’s ok, but now …”

He looked at Scott unhappily.

“I don’t want to be the fat-shaming asshole boyfriend, but I can’t not say anything any longer, can I? I mean, it’s so obvious now, like, my dad blushes every time Derek gets up and stretches because when he does he actually pushes his stomach out and then it’s just like, _really_ noticeable and no one can stop looking even though we know we shouldn’t, and I’m afraid I’ll be a bad boyfriend if I just ignore it any longer. Like, I wouldn’t say anything if he was doing fine otherwise, but I don’t think he is, he sleeps almost all the time now when he’s not at work and my dad said he caught him sleeping on his desk _twice_ last week alone. And he’s got those circles under his eyes and he’s constantly wincing and rubbing his back and stomach like he’s in pain and I just … I should say something, right?”

Scott shook his head frantically, his eyes wide open.

“No! You should smile and nod and not say anything, ever! Unless he brings it up himself and then you pretend you haven’t even noticed!”

Stiles snorted.

“Dude, werewolf lie detection. That’s not going to work!”

Scott grabbed his shoulders, a solemn look on his face.

“Listen to me. Don’t do it if you know what’s good for you. Kira gained ten pounds her first semester of college and she pestered me about it for _weeks_ , like, she wouldn’t leave me alone, constantly asking if she had gained weight and I hadn’t even noticed it at first, but then she just wouldn’t shut up about it and eventually it was the only thing I could think about so one night I cracked and I said ‘Yeah, maybe a little in your belly’, but man, I was getting annoyed! First of all, I’m not some douche bag who’d leave her for a couple of extra pounds and secondly, when girls gain weight they almost always gain weight in their breasts, too, and _hello_ , free extra boobs, I was like ‘Yes, thank you!’ and apart from than that I really had no feelings on the subject other than being super annoyed because she wouldn’t shut up about it!”

He sighed.

“She didn’t see it that way. In fact, she completely flipped her shit, started screaming at me like Lydia on her best banshee days. Apparently, a good boyfriend would have said ‘No, you are stupid, you didn’t gain weight, you’re delusional’, but I mean, she just kept going on and on and _on_ about it and really, what did she expect, we didn’t have another conversation topic for like weeks!”

He grimaced, shoveling a huge spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth.

“What I’m trying to say is, even though she wanted me to acknowledge her weight gain, she actually didn’t want me to acknowledge it _at all,_ and talking to Derek about it will leave you blue-balled for months to come! I’ve been there, it’s not fun!”

Stiles shrugged unhappily, swallowing his ice cream before he spoke again.

“It’s not like I’m not blue-balled already. I swear, for a while Derek was like, completely insatiable, but ever since I’ve gotten home he’s barely let me touch him at all, claiming that he’s tired all the time. Maybe he no longer finds me attractive? He’s awful cozy with Parrish these days!”

Scott reached over to hit the back of his head, scowling at him when Stiles yelped in protest.

“First, don’t talk to me about your sex life! Second, Derek would _never_ cheat on you, don’t be an idiot! And don’t be the idiot who talks about his weight gain, either, besides, I know I haven’t had the time to see him yet, since I just got home two days ago, but it can’t be _that_ obvious!”

“What’s not obvious?” Derek’s voice rang through the loft and both Scott and Stiles froze, spoons halfway to their mouths as they stared at Derek, who had just gotten home from his shift and was taking off his shoes.

“Do you think I can sweet-talk your dad into buying more comfortable shoes for the department? Those are really a pain to walk around in all day,” he said to Stiles, dropping a kiss on his head before he sat down in the armchair with a sigh, resting his clearly swollen feet on the ottoman and inspecting them with a frown.

Stiles jabbed his elbow into Scott’s side when Scott looked like his eyes were about to fall out of their sockets as he took in the graceful curve of Derek’s belly and Scott closed his mouth with a snap, blushing as he dug around in his bag for a third spoon.

“Uhm … ice cream?” he asked hesitantly and Derek sighed.

“Not hungry, I just want to sleep,” he said, his eyes already falling shut as he leaned back in the chair, one hand resting on his abdomen.

He was fast asleep only minutes later and after Stiles had draped a blanket over his sleeping boyfriend he dragged Scott into the kitchen, whispering, “See!” at him urgently.

Scott, who seemed to have recovered from his shock, shook his head with determination.

“Don’t say _anything_! If he doesn’t bring it up you’ll just ignore it. It’s not your business anyways!”

Stiles still looked unhappy.

“What if it’s some alien parasite or something? I cuddled with him the other day, when he was really tired and kind of in a snuggle mood, and I swear his belly _twitched_ under my hand like three times!”

Scott rolled his eyes.

“This is not an episode of _The X-Files_ , Stiles, and besides, my belly sometimes twitches too after a workout. Werewolf muscles sometimes have a mind of their own, you get used to it eventually,” he whispered back.

Stiles rubbed his eyes, sounding resigned when he spoke next.

“If I wake up one night in a puddle of blood while Derek’s writhing next to me with an alien sticking out of his stomach, it’ll be your fault for putting me at ease!” he grunted and Scott rolled his eyes again, snorting as he looked at his best friend.

“Dude … you really are a doofus sometimes.”

Stiles couldn’t argue with that assessment, but he currently was a very concerned doofus and even though hearing Scott’s perspective had helped he was still unsure whether or not to approach the topic with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering: Jordan (who is kinda sorta not human) is getting kind of suspicious about the whole thing and he might or might not have doctored his story a little to see Derek's reaction. 
> 
> As for Scott's advice ... my former roommate (an awesome guy btw), who is one of these people who, and I quote "end up telling the truth if someone asks me so many times that I'm just done with being polite", once gave in to his then-girlfriend's constant litany of "Did I gain weight, am I chubby?" and told her "Well, yeah, I can kind of tell in your face and belly but it's not as if I care".  
> It wasn't the reason for the break-up, but years later he was still traumatized by her reaction and has vowed to from now until forever say "No!" if a woman asks him if she gained weight. His trauma inspired this scene ;-). 
> 
> Next Up: "The One With the Baby"


	6. The One With the Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled "The One Where Stiles Says Holy Crap a Lot and Derek Realizes He Is Not Only a Google Translate But Also a Pregnancy Detection Fail Wolf"

_39 Weeks_

Waking up that morning had been a mistake. Going in to work had been an even bigger mistake and Derek had been ready to go home and curl up in a big ball of misery by the time he and Jordan were scheduled to go on patrol.

The looks of his colleagues – some of them concerned, some incredulous, some downright mean – had been stifling as he had sat at his desk while trying to get work done and found himself unable to concentrate.

He couldn’t remember ever being this exhausted in his entire life and the nagging ache in his back was not helping either.

By the time Jordan had snatched the keys away from him and declared that he was driving the ache in his back had been joined by a deep throbbing in his abdomen and really, that sensation was getting rather old these days.

He had fallen asleep almost as soon as Jordan had started the car and Jordan had driven them around town in silence for over an hour, unable to stop himself from looking at his sleeping partner in concern every couple of minutes.

He was just about to wake Derek and suggest that he drop him off at his place tonight, when reports of a robbery came through the radio, with the perpetrators apparently still at work at the crime scene.

The store’s next-door neighbor had reported the robbery and Jordan shook Derek awake quickly, relaying the key information as he sped towards the store at the edge of the downtown area.

It was after 10 PM and the streets were almost empty, so he didn’t put on the signal as to not scare off the robber and by the time Derek and Jordan reached the store, the guy – a bulky man in his late thirties – was just exiting the store’s backdoor with a large backpack.

Weight gain or not, Derek was still the fastest officer on the force and he charged after him, pain momentarily forgotten as adrenaline coursed through him.

The guy was surprisingly fast but Derek caught up with him in an alleyway, Jordan hot on his heels as he slammed the man against a dumpster.

The thief didn’t seem to be willing to go down quietly, struggling in Derek’s grasp and Jordan had almost reached them when the pain in Derek’s lower belly suddenly became sharper, causing him to lose focus momentarily and allowing the thief to ram his knee right into his abdomen with brutal force.

Derek barely registered Jordan’s screams as the other deputy managed to subdue and handcuff the thief when he dropped to the ground, unable to hold in the scream that flung from his lips when his entire groin area seemingly went up in flames.

He was still writhing on the ground when Jordan called for back-up and once the thief was handcuffed to the dumpster Jordan dropped down to his knees next to him, grasping Derek’s face and forcing him to look at him.

Jordan’s mouth was forming words, but Derek couldn’t hear them, and he began to panic, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the pain increased again.

Jordan stroked his hair soothingly and continued to speak and after what felt like a millennium but was probably not more than ten seconds, Derek finally regained control of his breathing, relieved that his healing was finally kicking in when the pain abated and then went away almost completely.

“Holy crap, are you alright Derek? Should we call an ambulance?” Jordan asked frantically and Derek shook his head, wincing when he pushed himself up.

“I’ll be fine, he just hit me where it hurts. I’m fine, really,” he said, noting with chagrin that Jordan didn’t believe him when the deputy hovered his hand over his belly.

“That wasn’t where you were grabbing a second ago,” he said and Derek sighed.

“Listen, I’m fine, really, I just … I was in pain already and then the kick made it worse, but I’m fine now, I swear!”

The sound of a siren was drawing nearer and Derek was relieved when Jordan turned towards them, allowing himself to briefly grasp his still-throbbing abdomen.

Sheriff Stilinski took their statements quickly as the perp was escorted towards the cruiser, examining the busted back door with a sigh.

“Not that I’m complaining about normal crime in this town for once, but seriously, a jewelry store?” he muttered under his breath and Derek smirked, the smirk turning into a grimace when the pain in his abdomen became sharper again.

“Derek? Derek!” Jordan’s voice rang out sounding worried, and the Sheriff whirled around just in time to see Derek drop to his knees with a low whine, arms wrapped around his stomach as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

“Are you alright son? What happened?” the Sheriff asked, crouching down next to him and Derek shook his head, breathing out deeply as the pain lessened yet again.

“Kicked me … I’ll be fine … healing is just a little side-tracked at the moment,” he whispered and the Sheriff grasped his shoulder in concern.

“You sure? Should we call Stiles to come get you?”

Derek shook his head.

“No, I’ll be fine, I promise. I just need some rest, I’m really tired.”

The Sheriff looked unconvinced but he stood up, fixing Jordan with a strict glare.

“You are going to drive Derek home right now, and if my son’s not there, stay with him until I can reach him. I don’t want him to be alone in this state, Stiles will skin all of us alive if something happens to him,” he ordered and Jordan nodded grimly, hooking his arm under Derek’s elbow and steering him towards the car.

They were silent for the first part of the drive, interrupted only by the occasional pained gasp from Derek and finally Jordan sighed, turning towards him as they stopped at a red light.

“Why did you come in to work anyways? If you were already in pain?” he asked and Derek shrugged, massaging his lower belly helplessly.

“Got used to it in the past weeks. Not the first time this happened,” he said and Jordan huffed, concentrating on the street again as he continued to drive towards the loft.

“Oh yeah? Dropping to the ground and doubling over in pain is normal for you these days?” he said and Derek shook his head tiredly, biting his lips against a spike of pain in his back.

“That one’s new,” he said and Jordan looked at him calculatingly for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together before he pressed his lips together and focused on the road again.

Stiles wasn’t at the loft since he had made plans with Scott and Kira that evening and Derek felt a little embarrassed when Jordan helped him up the many stairs, having to pause every couple of steps to rest.

“You’d think you pay enough rent for them to finally fix that elevator,” Jordan said gently and Derek grunted in agreement, hand firmly gripping the handrail as he continued the long trek upstairs.

It probably said a lot for his improving ability to trust people, he mused briefly, when he collapsed on top of his bed with Jordan still in the room, curling on his side and around his aching stomach with a deep sigh.

He could smell his partner’s anxiety rolling off of the man in waves – as well as something else that he had never been able to detect before and couldn’t make sense of – and when Jordan sat down on the edge of the bed, he opened his eyes slowly, aware that they were probably glazed over with pain.

“Ok, I didn’t want to say anything, figured it wasn’t any of my business, but …”

Derek held up a hand to stop him, groaning as his belly contracted again.

“If you’re about to say I need to lose some weight then I agree, it didn’t bother me all that much before but I’ve been in pain for weeks, and it’s enough. I’ll start running with you tomorrow, alright, just … let me get some rest first.”

Jordan huffed, rolling his eyes at Derek with an almost hurt expression.

“Dude! For the last time, stop apologizing for your weight, it’s no one’s business but your own and we all need to learn to keep our opinions to ourselves anyways. But that’s not what I meant, I … well, it has to do with what I meant but … dang, this is awkward, uhm, Derek? You know that I _know_ , right?”

Derek froze for a second before he pushed himself into a sitting position, arms still cradling his stomach as he looked at Jordan through squinted eyes.

“What do you know, Jordan?” he asked carefully and Jordan sighed.

“You’re a werewolf, right? I figured it was either that or a coyote, something were-related anyways.”

Derek’s mouth dropped open in shock and Jordan held up his hands quickly, flashing him an encouraging smile.

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s fine with me. I go up in flames like once a month and rise up from the ashes so I’m not judging, but … shouldn’t you have healed by now? I mean, I don’t know all that much about weres, but you guys have pretty good self-healing abilities, right?”

“You’re … what?” Derek gasped and Jordan shrugged.

“Phoenix, you know, like that thing in _Harry Potter_ , only I don’t look like a big bird, thankfully. My big sister called me Fawkes for _years_ after those books came out, it was not funny, I can tell you.”

His brows drew together in concern when Derek was barely able to stifle another groan and he looked at his stomach with a pointed glance.

“Listen, not the point. Did you get poisoned tonight? Or maybe a while back, if you’ve been in pain for weeks? That’s a thing that happens, right? Wolfsbane is like your kryptonite? I’m just saying, you don’t look like you’re getting better, you’re actually getting worse and I really don’t want Stilinski’s son to skin me alive, though I’d grow it back pretty quickly I’m sure. What I mean is … is there something I can do?”

Derek shook his head, groaning again as he doubled over.

“I … I don’t know what’s happening to me he,” whispered and Jordan carefully reached out his hand until he was almost touching Derek’s stomach.

“Can I … can I feel? Maybe I’ll know what’s going on, my mom was a supernatural healer and she taught me quite a lot.”

One day soon Derek would have to have a long talk with his secretive partner, but not right now, when his insides were obviously trying to turn themselves into outsides.

“Alright!” he breathed and Jordan placed both hands on his stomach, carefully feeling up and down the curve.

When he looked up at Derek again his expression resembled that of a man who had just confirmed a long-held suspicion, as well as embarrassment.

“Ok so … _gah_ , this is even more awkward, but … you guys have sex, right?”

Derek gaped at him.

“… Yeah? None of your business, but yeah, of course.”

Jordan flinched.

“Uhm … ok, so, uhm … when you do it … the sex I mean … who catches?”

Derek cleared his throat warningly, pain momentarily forgotten as he glared at Jordan.

“Ok that is _really_ not any of your business! If you must know, we both do on occasion, but I don’t see what that has to do with me being in pain!”

Jordan nodded, looking more concerned than ever as he continued to feel Derek’s abdomen.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just … alright, this is going to sound really stupid and it will top the awkwardness of the last question by a mile, but … do werewolves have babies?”

Derek raised his eyebrows.

“No, we lay eggs. Blue eggs for a boy and pink eggs for a girl and then we hatch them in our big den for three months.”

Jordan grinned, some of the tension leaving his face.

“If anything, I think my people would be the ones laying the eggs, though that seems kind of weird and terrifying. I’m sorry, it’s just … your belly just really looks and feels like my sister’s did just before she gave birth to my nephew. As you know he was born last month so the memory is kind of fresh.”

He trailed off, looking at Derek with renewed concern when all color left the werewolf’s face.

“Sometimes … rarely … but Stiles and me are not compatible, I tested it, I’m not … _that’s_ not it,” he said, swaying alarmingly and Jordan grabbed his shoulders to keep him upright, looking shocked.

“Whoa, Derek, don’t faint on me!”

He pushed the werewolf back against the pillows, grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand and looking at him with renewed concern.

“Listen, I know this shouldn’t even be possible, but are you _sure_ that’s not what is going on here? I mean, I’m not an expert but it just really, really feels and looks like you’re pregnant … also, what do you mean, compatible?”

He shook his head as if he was trying to make sense of the words he had just spoken and Derek sighed.

“Some male werewolves can get pregnant, me among them, though it happens rarely and conception only takes place if the stellar constellation under a full moon is right, the werewolf wants to have a baby and the partner is compatible. There’s a test that can determine compatibility and Stiles and me are not compatible, I checked. I’m not pregnant,” he said, his eyes widening when there was a shocked gasp from the doorway and a loud clattering sound as Stiles dropped his keys, eyes wide and face pale as he took in the scene in front of him.

“You can get pregnant? Why did you never tell me? And wait, what do you mean, not compatible? What’s going on here?” Stiles rushed out, stumbling over to the bed and almost shoving Jordan off the edge in his haste to reach Derek and Derek groaned when his abdomen contracted again, digging his hands into the throbbing skin to will it to stop.

“Wanted to tell you the night when Scott told us about Kira’s false alarm. You said you didn’t want children, so I figured I’d test if we were compatible, just in case we needed to be more careful on certain days of the year. But we’re not, so you don’t have to worry, I’m not going to get pregnant,” he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain and whining softly when tears began to trickle down his cheeks against his will, caused both by the pain and the fact that he really did not want to have this conversation right now.

“I … I guess I should go then?” Jordan said in the background and Derek nodded, reaching out to grasp his partner’s hand in silent thanks for his support.

Jordan looked like leaving was the last thing he wanted to do but he did, throwing a last unreadable glance at Stiles before he exited the room.

Stiles waited until Jordan had shut the loft’s door behind him before he turned towards Derek again, running his hand through the older man’s hair with a concerned expression.

“My dad said you got hit really bad while you were chasing a jewelry thief. Also said you weren’t healing like you should. What’s going on, do we need to get you to Deaton?”

Derek shook his head, sighing in relief when the pain went away again.

“I’ll be fine, really, just need some rest. I … hold me? Please?” he asked, voice shaking as his eyes once again brimmed with tears and although Stiles looked like there were many things he wanted to say he nodded, stripping off his shoes and jacket before he climbed on the bed and spooned Derek from behind, his hand gently stroking the tense skin of Derek’s abdomen.

“Your belly is really hard … are you _sure_ that’s normal?” Stiles asked after a couple of minutes and Derek exhaled softly, placing his hand on top of Stiles’ and interlacing their fingers, soothing himself through the contact.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just want to _sleep_ ,” he said shakily, aware that he sounded like he was on the verge of tears again and Stiles kissed the nape of his neck, pressing his face against Derek’s shoulders.

“I know, I know. I just … forget it, just go to sleep,” he muttered and Derek turned his head questioningly, taking in the worried crease between Stiles’ eyebrows.

“What?” he asked quietly, squeezing Stiles’ hand encouragingly and Stiles sighed.

“What did you mean when you said we weren’t compatible? I got something about stars, and the full moon, and baby fever, but I just … please explain it to me? I know you’re not feeling good, but it seems kind of important?”

Derek sighed, though his hold on Stiles’ hand remained firm.

“It doesn’t happen very often, but every now and then a born male werewolf is able to conceive and carry children when they are with a male partner. I’m one of them, I’ve known since I was little. It doesn’t happen very often, which is why it’s not common knowledge. The stars have to align a certain way on a full moon, the werewolf has to want children and the partners need to be compatible.”

“Yeah, I got all that, but what does compatible mean? And how did you even find out that we’re not?”

Stiles sounded sad and Derek closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

“I tested your sperm. And I’m sorry I did that, I should have asked you first.”

Stiles sighed.

“You should have, yeah. Non-compatible then?”

Derek could tell he was getting angry now and he braced himself, holding on to Stiles as if he was afraid he would get up and leave.

“It’s biology, just biology. It means that your sperm won’t get me pregnant because that child might not be viable, since those kids have to be extremely resilient to be carried to term by a male. It’s kind of a fail-safe mechanism so more strong werewolves are born. That doesn’t mean that we can’t have a happy and fulfilled relationship, it just means we can’t have children. But you don’t want any children anyways, so we’ll be fine, right?” he added, wincing when his back throbbed with pain yet again.

“You make it sound like it’s nothing but it’s _everything_ , isn’t it?” Stiles sounded really upset now, his anxiety pouring over Derek and he bit back the whine trying to force itself out of his mouth.

“Don’t shut me out now Derek, I mean it, it _is_ everything! I know you want children; I know how much you want to have a family again. If I can’t give you that … do you even want to _stay_ with me?”

Derek struggled to sit up so he could face Stiles, their hands still interlaced on his belly as he stared at him with a hurt expression on his face.

“Do you really doubt my love for you so much? I want to be with _you_ , I love you, and at the end of the day I want _us_ to be a family. I can’t promise you that I won’t be sad sometimes, but if you don’t want children I think I can live with that. It will be a while until I get used to the idea, but I will get there eventually.”

Stiles shook his head angrily, placing his other hand on the other side of Derek’s belly as well as he stared at him.

“Are you even listening to yourself? I don’t want our relationship to be just another bad thing in your life that will turn you into a martyr! You should go after what you want, I am not going to have you wake up twenty years from now and have you realize you wasted your life by staying with me! You are doubting _my_ love for _you_ if you think I’ll allow you to do that!”

He glared at him angrily, although there was sadness in his scent as well.

“Couldn’t you have just asked me? Before you swiped my sperm and set up some experiment like a kid with a chemistry kit? And besides, when did I ever say I never wanted children? I said I’m not ready for them _now_ , well, maybe I didn’t specifically say the word ‘now’, but I thought that was implied! Of course it doesn’t really matter now, since we are not compatible, but do you really think I would have stayed with you, knowing how much you long for a family, if I hadn’t looked forward to starting one with you eventually? I thought … heck, Derek, I thought we’d adopt in a couple of years!”

Derek’s eyes widened and for a moment Stiles thought it was because of his words, but then he doubled over, his hands grabbing Stiles’ arms as he groaned loudly.

Because he had both hands placed on Derek’s abdomen Stiles was clearly able to feel the way his boyfriend’s entire stomach hardened and contracted under his hands, could feel the shift of _something_ moving inside as Derek continued to gasp painfully and because he was kneeling between Derek’s legs he also felt the gush of warm fluid seeping into the sheets.

His hand was shaking when he touched the puddle and his fingers came back bloody, staring at Derek with shock, confusion, and slowly dawning betrayal.

“Derek …” he whispered, backing away from him and almost falling off the bed in his haste to get as much distance between them as possible.

“If we are incompatible and we can’t have biological children … how the _hell_ are you _pregnant_?”

Derek shook his head, still trying to catch his breath as he curled in on himself.

“I’m … I’m _not_ Stiles, I promise I … I don’t _know_ what’s happening to me!”

He almost screamed the last part, suddenly scared out of his mind and wanting nothing more than for Stiles to hold him again but Stiles was staring at him in a way he had never looked at him before, cold, distant, and incredibly hurt.

“Is it Parrish’s?” he asked, sounding both furious and deeply sad and Derek whined as wave after wave of anger and distress rolled out of Stiles.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I swear!”

The pain wouldn’t stop, flaring up inside him once more and he screamed again, his distress heightened by Stiles’ fury.

“It’s Parrish’s isn’t it? All those late-night patrols, and we know what can go on in the back of a police cruiser, don’t we?! Does he even know? Why would you even hide this, did you hope it would just go away? Well _congratulations_ Derek! You’re having a baby! Only it’s not mine so I guess congratulations to _me_ for winning the award for most oblivious and stupid and not realizing that you’ve been cheating on me for _months_!”

Because the pain had once again retreated to a bearable level Derek was able to concentrate as he stared at Stiles, confusion and hurt in his eyes when Stiles backed away even further.

“What are you talking about? Stiles, I didn’t cheat on you with Jordan! Why would I cheat on you? I _love_ you! Why are you doing this to me right now?” he panted, wincing against more pain in his lower back and Stiles laughed almost hysterically.

“Why am I doing this to _you_? Derek, you just told me that I have no chance in hell of being the father of the child you are about to give birth to, something I _just_ found out you can _do_ , apparently, the right question is why did you do this to _me_?”

There were tears in his boyfriend’s eyes and Derek growled, anger temporarily overtaking his hurt and confusion.

“For the last time, Stiles, I’m not pregnant, it’s a hysterical pregnancy, it’s …”

Stiles shook his head angrily, cutting him off with a loud snort.

“People who are hysterical-pregnant don’t _know_ they are not really pregnant, that’s the whole point! You’re in _denial_ Derek, that’s completely different! And I was in denial, too, obviously, I _knew_ something was off about your belly freaking moving under my hands, I knew something wasn’t right!”

Derek’s eyes widened even further.

“Moving? Inside my … no, Stiles, I promise, I’m not in denial, I’m not pregnant and I am most definitely not about to give birth, I’m not …”

He was cut off again, this time by an urge to push and that, combined with the tearing sensation in his groin, finally penetrated the fog of oblivion, the realization that he was, in fact, pregnant and just about to give birth to a baby slamming into him like a sledgehammer.

“Oh my god …” he whispered, hands helplessly feeling around his abdomen as if he was feeling it for the first time and as he pressed down he could actually feel the baby, could hear its heartbeat and also sense its unrest, brought on by the actual birth process.

“Stiles, I … oh my god … there was no one else, please, I swear there wasn’t …”

“Not compatible!” Stiles interrupted him, hurt bleeding out of every word he spoke.

“How else do you suggest this happened?!”

He was still backing towards the door, clearly intending to leave him alone with this and Derek panicked.

He had never had a panic attack before but this was probably what it felt like he thought briefly as nausea welled up inside of him. He was breathing rapidly and still felt like he was choking at the same time and when the next contraction hit and more blood gushed out of what, if he remembered his parents’ words correctly, was a temporary birth canal, the world swam out of focus as he realized he would probably faint, both from lack of oxygen and the pain.

Suddenly there were two strong hands holding him, keeping him upright and anchoring him and he forced himself to focus on Stiles, who had knelt back down on the bed and was pressing their foreheads together, trying to mimic his calm breathing.

Little by little he felt like he could breathe again, but the relief was short-lived when the next contraction tore through him, barely a minute after the last one.

“Don’t go, don’t go!” he whimpered, clinging to Stiles helplessly and the human pulled him close, shushing him like a wounded animal as he stroked his back.

Stiles still smelt bitter and angry but he also smelled concerned and Derek allowed himself to relax for the briefest of moments, certain that whatever would happen after this, Stiles was not going to leave him alone to give birth to his baby by himself.

His fatherless baby, because Derek didn’t have the slightest idea how he could possibly be pregnant when the only person he had had sex with in three years was not compatible with him and couldn’t have gotten him pregnant.

He couldn’t stop the sobs when they came, feeling distraught and terrified when he realized what this must look like to Stiles, as well as the tiny detail that he had no idea who the father was.

“I’m not going anywhere, please, stop crying, please, I need you to focus, Derek, please, I have no idea what I’m doing here!”

That was Stiles’ voice, sounding choked and a little panicked as his boyfriend knelt between his legs and tugged at his pants – he was still wearing the beige uniform pants, although those were probably ruined forever now – and Derek tried to help as best as he could, crying out again when he felt the pressure building up between his legs.

“Holy crap, that’s a lot of blood, oh god, okay, I can do this I … holy crap!” Stiles babbled, his eyes huge as they stood out against his pale skin as he took a look at the situation and Derek furiously tried to remember any birth scene he had ever watched on television and in movies before deciding that maybe grabbing his legs for support and pushing that way might work.

He had to push now, that much he knew without a doubt and so he did, sweat running down his entire body as Stiles grabbed his hands that were wrapped around his thighs and held on tightly, eyes widening even further as he watched the proceedings.

“That’s a head, Derek, that’s a head, I see a head! It’s coming out of … what the _hell_ , that’s new, that’s … oh god … yeah … yeah, I can see a head!” Stiles reported shakily, shaking his head in disbelief and his eyes blown wide open, and Derek squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering against the burning sensation.

“Is it stuck? Did it get stuck?” Stiles exclaimed and Derek shook his head, biting on his lips so hard that he could taste blood when he pushed again with the next contraction.

“What now?” Stiles whispered, staring at the head that had just emerged out of the temporary birth canal in horrified fascination and Derek panted harshly, trying to assemble his strength for the final push.

“Catch it … you need to ... guide out the shoulders and then … catch it …” he instructed weakly, pushing with every last bit of energy he had before it was suddenly over and he collapsed against the headboard of the bed, gasping for air as the terrible pain finally subsided.

There was silence in the room, too much silence, interrupted only by Stiles’ rapidly rising heartbeat and Derek pushed himself up, staring at the tiny baby in Stiles’ arms with terror when he noticed how still and pale it was.

The cord was wrapped around its neck like a chokehold and suddenly the world swam out of focus as Derek’s vision turned into a tunnel, only able to look at the baby that was lying still in Stiles’ arms and wasn’t breathing.

“Derek … it’s … is it dead?” Stiles whimpered, sounding just as terrified and smelling like nothing but fear and grief and Derek sat up as quickly as he could, tearing at the cord and tugging it away from the child’s neck before taking it from Stiles and cradling it.

“No, no, no, come on sweetheart, don’t die, please don’t die!” he whispered, placing his hand on the child’s chest and focusing all of his healing on it, black tendrils running up his arm as he rocked it back and forth.

“Breathe, please breathe!” he repeated again and again and Stiles leaned over, shaking badly as he stared at the baby’s little nose.

“Maybe there’s some obstruction in the airways,” he whispered, not waiting for permission before he bent down and – for lack of a better suction device – placed his mouth over the child’s nose, inhaling deeply then turning sideways to spit out the mucus and as the baby slowly regained color, Derek exhaled the breath he had been holding, his shoulders starting to shake when the child finally took its first breath and started screaming.

Stiles dropped his head into his hands with a shaky laugh, tearing his fingers through his hair and rubbing at his eyes when he looked back at Derek, expression both relieved and sad as he watched his boyfriend cradle the child closer, trying to keep it as warm as possible when it continued to mewl.

Derek finally looked up at him and the gratitude in his eyes took Stiles’ breath away. He had never seen Derek look so happy, so content, and even though his heart was still breaking into a thousand tiny pieces he forced himself to smile, standing up from the bed shakily as he rubbed his hands against his jeans.

“Should I … call someone? The … the father? I’m sure he’d want to be here,” he whispered and Derek’s eyes once again moistened as he looked at Stiles earnestly.

“Stiles … I didn’t cheat on you! You’re in fact the only man I’ve ever been with. I don’t want anyone else but you,” he whispered, before looking back at the baby with wide eyes, disbelief still plain on his face.

“But then who’s his or her father?” Stiles asked, still sounding hurt and Derek stared at the baby as if the answer was to be found in its features.

“I … I don’t know. I don’t know who her father is. I don’t know how it _could_ be anyone else but you!” he said and Stiles sat down on the bed again, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes began to tear up.

“Her? It’s a girl?”

Derek nodded, apparently unable to speak for the moment.

Stiles finally allowed himself to take a closer look at the baby, taking in her little arms, legs, nose, tiny mouth, and eyes, which were currently closed as her fist wrapped around Derek’s finger tightly.

“She’s beautiful Derek,” he whispered, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice and Derek smiled gently, eyes still fixed on his daughter.

“So beautiful,” he agreed and Stiles sighed softly, reaching out one finger to stroke the baby’s arm.

“She’s got a birthmark there, do you see it? Looks almost like the one I’ve got on my …” he trailed off, looking at Derek in shock, confusion – and with hope suddenly shining out of his eyes and Derek froze for a second before he took a really close look at the baby, disbelief and slowly-growing joy spreading through him when he realized just how much she looked like Stiles already.

“Can you … can’t you smell who she belongs to?” Stiles whispered almost inaudibly and Derek bent his head down, pushing his nose against her soft head and nuzzling her fine hair.

When he looked back at Stiles his eyes were radiating with happiness.

“She’s yours! I don’t know how it’s even possible but … she’s yours Stiles,” he whispered and now Stiles was the one who stopped breathing, his eyes growing impossibly wider as he stared at the baby.

“Mine? Are you sure?” he breathed and Derek nodded, relieved laughter bubbling out of him as he sank against Stiles’ chest.

“Absolutely. She smells like you and me. Like she’s _ours_ ,” he confirmed and when he held her out towards him Stiles took her without hesitation, his heart beating against his chest as he stared at the little girl.

As soon as he held her in his arms Stiles realized that there was no doubt that she was his, even without the birthmark that was near identical to his own and he started laughing as well, happiness welling up inside of him when he looked back at Derek.

“How did we not realize this for so long? How could we not notice her?” he asked and Derek leaned back against the pillows, looking exhausted, happy, and also a little terrified as he regarded them both.

“I thought we were incompatible and I’d never been with another man … I just didn’t think it was possible,” he tried to explain and Stiles kissed the baby’s head, smile widening when she nuzzled her face against his chest.

“I don’t think we’re as incompatible as you thought,” he pointed out and Derek nodded, still looking completely flabbergasted.

“We should probably redo that test at some point,” Stiles continued gently and Derek nodded again, holding out his arms for the baby.

This time Stiles pulled him into his arms as they both held their daughter and for a while nobody said anything.

“You do realize that Jordan has the hots on Lydia, right?” Derek asked after a while and Stiles blushed, kissing his temple in apology.

“I’m so sorry Derek … I was an ass to you back there,” he whispered and Derek nodded, his mouth once again curving up into a smile.

“Yeah … but I probably would have reacted the same way.”

They were silent once more and then Derek turned towards Stiles, a fearful expression on his face.

“I know you said you aren’t ready for her yet but … do you think you can be ready soon? For her?”

In response Stiles stroked their daughter’s hand, tears running down his face when she caught his pinky finger in a death grip.

“ _She’s_ ready for me … that’s really all the reason I need.”

 

================

 

_Epilogue_

It had really only been one word, one word that had gone through wrong in the Google Translator and messed up the entire potion, leading to inconclusive results.

Stiles had recreated the potion the very next day, desperate to have final and undeniable proof that the little baby nestled against Derek’s chest was his daughter and both men had burst into tears when the potion had turned bright red.

The baby’s completely overwhelmed, extremely confused, but nevertheless ecstatic grandfather had granted Derek an immediate paternity leave for three months and although there had never really been any doubt as to who her godfather would be, Jordan was just as completely wrapped around her finger as her Uncle Scott, dropping by Derek’s loft every other day to coo at the little girl and grin smugly at her fathers because he had been right all along.

As the years went by their family expanded from three to four, then to five plus an adorable dog, and Stiles sometimes caught himself looking at Derek, taking in the love and contentment in his face as he listened to the sounds of happy laughter ringing through their house, and wondering how in the world Derek could have possibly thought that he didn’t want any of this.

After the birth of their third daughter, a ray of sunshine little female version of Derek named Kaylee (Derek had briefly wondered about the spelling, then shrugged it off, and Stiles had hidden the ‘evidence’ in the form of his _Firefly_ DVD set so successfully that he was still looking for it by the time Kaylee was old enough to go to kindergarten), they had decided that their family was complete, however, Derek proved to his mate that he still didn’t know how to use the Internet properly four years later, when he looked up star constellations on an astronomy website for birth control purposes and ended up in the wrong year column.

When he started getting nauseous again Stiles proudly high-fived Scott and bought a cigar, only to throw it away with a guilty expression when their oldest daughter Lilly raised her eyebrows at him in a way that was so _Derek_ that he would have laughed, had he not been at the receiving end of a stern lecture about taking care of one’s health.

At nine years old Lillian Marie Hale, who was definitely a Stilinski in the looks department, was already better at bossing her fathers around than Stiles had ever been in his attempts to control his father’s diet and he hoped he would never develop high cholesterol, certain that his werewolf daughter would sniff out every single candy-hiding place in the house within minutes.

Derek was principally opposed to finding out the gender of your child and after three girls Stiles just assumed they would be welcoming a fourth daughter … as well as their fifth daughter, since Derek, to their older daughters’ utter delight and their fathers’ shocked surprise was carrying twins.

He hadn’t painted a nursery in almost five years and since the last three nurseries had been designed in gender-neutral colors Stiles decided to just act on his hunch this time and go all out, arguing that as a seasoned and hopelessly besotted girls-daddy he was the uncontested authority on everything pink and glittery.

Jordan, who was the godfather to their second daughter Alana and also secretly skilled at interior design, helped enthusiastically, their combined efforts to turn the last remaining free room in the house into a sea of fluffy pink clouds and unicorns occasionally interrupted by a heavily pregnant Derek, who would stick his head inside the door and gently remind his mate that they could still be having at least one boy.

Four weeks later, Jonah and Nicholas Hale spent their first night on Earth in rose-colored onesies, wrapped up in hot pink blankets on a cream-lilac bedding, and sleeping peacefully in a pink, violet, and glitter-colored room.

As they were watching their newborn sons sleep Stiles, who was standing behind Derek with his chin resting on the older man’s shoulder and his arms gently wrapped around his waist, didn’t have to see Derek’s face to know that his werewolf was wearing his sappiest ‘I would gripe at you and say I told you so but I am currently so happy that my mouth can’t stop smiling so I’ll get to that later’-expression, couldn’t help shaking his head at his younger self.

One was – quite obviously – never truly prepared and ready for all the emotions and responsibilities that came with having children … and still, somehow, they had managed to do just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly do believe that Derek and Stiles would have a large family, however, coming up with new names for all of of these mpreg stories is starting to take up more time than writing one chapter ;-). 
> 
> Oh and in case you were wondering why Jordan was irresponsible and left these doofuses alone ... he stayed outside the loft door the entire time, ready to jump into action if things got really bad and Stiles kind of stumbled all over him on his way to the store to get diapers and baby-essentials.  
> When he got back to the loft Jordan was sitting on the bed and cooing at the baby and after the baby was clean and safely tucked in Stiles' arms the new dad got read the Riot Act by both Derek and Jordan about how they would never hook up ever.  
> Stiles felt bad about it but then the baby, not used to all this new space twitched and made this little shocked sound whenever she realized she could actually kick out her little legs farther than she ever had and Jordan kind of forgot what he wanted to say.
> 
> The End :).
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting and kudosing!

**Author's Note:**

> This work is finished and I plan on updating daily. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are, as always, appreciated!


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